Just Business
by Typewriter of Trash
Summary: All Elanor wanted was a job, but instead, she joins a madman's world of drugs, violence, and crime. With her own demons to deal with, can she see it through to the end with her boss and his agenda? Or will she try to leave this life of crime before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**Before we start, I'd like to give a few warnings. Since this is a GTA V story expect the following: violence, crude language/humor, implication of sex and drugs. If you are uncomfortable with any of that then feel free to leave. If not, I hope you enjoy the first chapter. This one is to just introduce the OC but I promise, Trevor is in the next one.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 _It was mid-winter in Wisconson, the snow went up to her knees as she trudged through the maze of barren trees. The young girl panted heavily as she trudged on, the snow clinging to her half-frozen legs. She had to keep going, she needed to. If she didn't then the dog would catch her and if the dog caught her then..._

 _The child snapped her head up to the sounds of a familiar bark. Through the woods she saw the dreaded dog; an old German Shepard baring his teeth to her, smelling the piece of raw meat her father made her place in the pocket of her pants. The dog licked his lips as he stalked closer towards her._

 _The girls didn't think twice to run. Sprinting the other direction she ran to the nearest tree she could climb. Desperately the nine-year-old tried to scramble up the first branch only to feel the dog leap onto her, knocking her to the ground. She screamed as the dog tore into the back pocket of her jeans, claiming it's reward before running off into the woods to enjoy the deer meat in peace._

 _The girl laid there, whimpering as the dog ran off. It was then she heard the snow crunching behind her, she slowly turned around to meet the dark eyes of the dog's master. Her father._

 _"You got caught again." He sneered through his teeth._

 _The girl crawled up shivering from the snow sticking to her skin. "D-daddy," She whimpered. "I tried. I tried_ so _...So hard-"_

 _"It wasn't enough!" His scream echoed through the woods. "If it wasn't our dog then it would have torn your empty head off without hesitation!"_

 _"Dad-"_

 _"Again." He snapped, grabbing her by the arm roughly. "We're doing it again tomorrow, El. We're not stopping until you get it right." He grabbed her round face, forcing her to look at him. "Do you understand, El? I'm doing this for you. Do you understand?!"_

 _..._

"Do you understand, Elanor?"

Elanor blinked a few times, her mind coming back to reality. She looked between her mother and their therapist who were eyeing her expectantly. "Oh...Um, yes. Yes, I understand."

"Good!" He exclaimed, a sickly bright smile on his face. "It seems like some progress is being made. Well, I suppose that's all for today."

All three stood up, the therapist shook hands with both women and lead them to the door.

"Do you think she's coming around?" Elanor's mother whispered to the therapist as her daughter left the room.

"Slowly, but surely." He assured her, patting her shoulder. "The good thing is that she's willing to live with you and your husband for the time being, it gives you a chance at the very least."

Elanor's mother, Cassandra Ritcher, smiled. "Thank you. For everything."

Elanor looked back into the room, letting a disgruntled snort at the scene before her. Her mother was the type of woman who got sentimental and emotional over little things. These touchy-feely moments made Elanor, on the other hand, want to lose her lunch.

When her mother was done thanking the therapist the two walked silently back to the car, getting in without a word.

"So..." Cassandra began slowly backing out of the parking spot. "I think it went well."

"Mmm," Elanor replied, looking out the window at the citizens of Los Santos. "You say that every time we leave his office."

"You didn't walk out, so obviously that meant things went well."

Elanor shrugged. "Whatever float's your boat."

Cassandra took a sideway's glance to her daughter. "Can you stop acting like an angsty teen? You're twenty-three for God's sake."

"A twenty-four-year-old who lives in her mother's fucking guest bedroom."

"Because you had to go and..." Cassandra stopped herself, not wanting to bring the memory of that damn night back. She could already feel a knot forming in her stomach as the image of her daughter being dragged out of her apartment, kicking and screaming crawled back into her mind. It took her and Wilson hours to work a deal out with the landlord to convince him not to call the cops. "Honey," She said softly. "I know things aren't going well at the moment. But they will get better...Trust me." She added a weak smile to the last part.

Elanor looked at her with a blank expression, she had heard this speech before over the last eight years. As far as she was concerned things never got better, they only plateaued for a bit and then she would sink even deeper into a pile of shit.

The rest of the ride was silent and both parties liked it that way. They made their way to Vespucci Beach, heading towards their home in the Canals. Elanor watched the blurry images of people and buildings pass by, it was all the same; random groups of foreign tourists, poor homeless people wandering aimlessly through the streets and of course, the ever so lovely local youths. She watched a car filled with people around her age cut in front of her mother in a red Porsche, a beer can went flying from the car and hit her mother's windshield with a loud 'bang'.

"Fuck!" Her mother cried, the car swerved a bit off the road but her mother managed to get the car back under control. Elanor almost felt like laughing at her mother's face; her blue eyes were nearly popping out of her head and her red lips seemed to almost be sucked into her mouth as she suppressed the urge to scream obscenities out the window at the people in front of them.

"Aren't you glad I didn't turn out to be like that?" Elanor snickered.

"Not a word." Cassandra snapped, taking the first turn she could to get away from the red Porsche.

By the time they had reached their home in Vespucci Canals the sun was starting to sink a bit in the sky. A tint of orange began to cover the large homes of the Canals, the waters going from a greenish hue to almost a dark brown color, reflecting little pieces of sunlight off its surface. Even though they were well off, Elanor's mother and step-father's home was modest compared to the elaborate homes in Rockford Hills. Their own home was a three floored house with a light blue exterior that clashed hideously with the red Spanished styled roof with a well-kept garden in the front and a small dock in the back like all the other houses in the Canals. When they pulled up to the house the front door open and Wilson-Cassandra's husband- stepped out to the front porch to greet them. They couldn't miss him, he stood out like a sore thumb from the bright orange polo he wore.

"Hey!" He yelled down. "How was it?"

"Fine." The two called back.

Wilson Ritcher was a fifty years old, five years older than Elanors mother. He was a red-faced man with a small black beard with a few gray patches, his hair was slicked back and his hairline had receded greatly over the years.

Cassandra walked over and kissed his cheek. "How was your day, sweetie?"

"Alright," He shrugged, leading the women into the house. "It wasn't a busy day at the clinic. Just a few check-ups here and there but nothing too serious today."

Elanor barely listened to him as she made her way to the kitchen, her stomach was ruling her mind at this point. She rummaged through the fridge to find some leftovers from last night to heat up.

Cassandra looked from her step-husband to her daughter. "I'm going to take a shower, dear." She announced loudly. Elanor grunted in response throwing a container of rice into the microwave. Cassandra took one more look at Wilson and mouthed out "Talk to her".

She left Wilson standing awkwardly in the kitchen with Elanor, who was more interested in the countdown to her dinner.

"So...El," He began, smacking his hands together. "How's the job hunting coming?"

"Alright." She answered, tapping her fingers impatiently on the marble counter. "I promise I won't be a burden much longer, I've got a job interview tomorrow."

"That's great!" Wilson beamed, but it fell off quickly when Elanor turned to look at him with her usual blank expression. "The job interview, I mean. You're not a burden at all, your mother loves having you here."

The young woman only gave him a tight smile before turning back to the microwave. Wilson puffed out his cheeks. It was difficult for him to speak to his step-daughter, not just because of the awkwardness of the situation but because Elanor seemed to care little about anything. Ever since she came to live with him and Cassandra when she was fifth-teen it was apparent to everyone that she was...Reserved, was the best way to put it. Cassandra blamed it on her father but Wilson had the sinking feeling that Elanor just didn't want anyone to be close to her. And the way she acted she was doing a good job at it.

Wilson took a seat on a barstool by the kitchen island and began to play with a random piece of plastic fruit they had to decoration. "You going to tell me where this place is?"

"It's a bar down in Sandy Shores." Elanor answered.

Wilson's body tensed. "A bar in Sandy Shores?" He repeated, barely believing the words coming out of his own mouth.

Elanor frowned at him. "Yes. I talked to the woman who owns the place and she has pretty low standards on who can work there. Figure it'd be better than wasting my time on jobs that do _real_ background checks."

Wilson put his head in his hands. "Please tell me your mother knows about this." She didn't answer, that was all he needed to understand what was going on. "What's going to happen if you get the job?"

"I'm a big girl." She shrugged, popping the microwave open to grab her half-cold rice. "If it works, it works. If it doesn't then I'll look for something else. I just want to get the money to find my own place and I'll be out of your guy's hair."

"Really, El." He persisted. "You are not a burden. Your mother wants to spend time with you and I don't mind having you around either."

Elanor glanced up from her meal to her step-father, trying to gauge if he was sincere or not. Even if he was she still wouldn't care. It didn't feel right to her to be living with her mother, not just because of her age but just because of their relationship. To her, they were not on good terms in the slightest.

She grabbed a fork from the sink and wiped it down. "Wilson," She said after inspecting the fork. "It's really no big deal. She doesn't need to know where the place is."

"Why not? She's your mother, she has a right to know."

Elanor frowned at him and then at the fork, seeing a little speck of food on it. "I don't need her worrying about me, I just want to get my shit together. Okay?"

Wilson opened his mouth to say something but closed it when reason overtook him. What did it matter to him, honestly? When did Elanor ever actually take heed to his warnings? He was just wasting time on her for the sake of Cassandra and clearly, it wasn't getting him anywhere.

Her step-father groaned, getting up from his seat and heading for the bedroom. "It's on _you_ when she finds out!" He shouted back before slamming the door behind him.

Elanor couldn't stop herself from smirking. "Awwe," She cooed, looking at her distorted reflection in the fork. "He does care."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, I need to go." A woman with cherry-red hair said as she walked out of a rusted up trailer. As she adjusted her short jean skirt an older man came out to give her a proper goodbye-a good smack on the ass.

"Don't mention it, sugar tits." Trevor grinned at the girl. "Come back when you want more of the good stuff. . .Oh and the meth too." He added in an almost thoughtful manner.

"Yeah, sure." Girl muttered. As she ran off his property he could see her dialing for her boyfriend, Johnny, who was ever so rudely ruining their night of sex and drugs with his calls.

Trevor leaned against the door frame, digging around in his pockets for the speed he had last night only to find an empty bottle. "Jesus fucking..." He growled throwing the bottle to the ground, going back into the trailer to look for his backup stash. He had so much garbage laying around his place that he gave up pretty much instantly trying to find his backup stash through the clutter. Settling for some stale coffee Trevor grabbed the whole pot and began to guzzle it down, only to spit it out onto his counters, coating a couple of dead roaches in the cold, bitter liquid.

"Fuck! How long has this shit been out here?" He yelled at the innocent pot. When no comment was made he threw it into the sink to join the rest of its dishware companions, who had lost all hope of ever being cleaned by their psychotic owner.

As Trevor went for a beer one of his minions- pardon, one of his business associates ran in. It was sadly, the dumbest one. Wade.

Trevor looked at the Juggalo and growled. "This morning just keeps getting better, don't it?"

"I don't know." Wade replied, not catching on that Trevor was in no mood for games. "Mine was good, I finally found out what was clogging my toilet. It was my phone." The young man held up a cell phone covered in scratched and leaking some toilet water...Along with some curious stains.

Trevor grabbed a fist full of Wade's dreadlock hair, making him yelp and dropping the phone to the ground. "Wade, look at me." Trevor said in a calm, steady manner. "Do I look like I'm in the mood to hear about your shit?"

Wade looked at him real hard, taking note that his nostrils were flared out. "Do you have a cold boss?"

"No, I don't have a fucking cold!" Trevor roared, tightening his grip on Wade's hair. "Now you better have a damn good reason to be walking in and ruining my moments of blissfully solitude or you're going to be looking for that damn phone up your tight ass."

"Ch-Chef!" Wade stuttered, waving a hand around frantically like he was trying to paint a picture of his reason for intruding. "Chef was trying to g-get in contact with ya, but when he couldn't h-he, uh, texted me."

Trever's face screwed up as he thought about last night, with how often the prick, Johnny, was calling he couldn't tell the difference between his phone and Ashley's. Trevor's took a look at Wade and released his hair. "Now what did, Chef want?"

"He wanted to talk to you about. . .About..." Wade began choking on his words at that point, a fresh wave of fear washing over him to see Trevor's reaction.

Trevor watched Wade with a dark look in his eyes, his hands began to twitch, itching to just choke the words out of the kid's mouth.

"Spit it out, already!" He snapped.

"Someone broke into the lab!" Wade blurted before shielding himself with his arms.

It took a minute for this to register to the older man and when it did it, the cry that erupted from his mouth seemed to make Mt. Saint Helen look like a newborn kitten whining for its mother's nipple.

* * *

The cab driver was doing one hell of a job not getting hit by oncoming traffic considering he was more concerned with the conversation he had on the phone with, what Elanor assumed, was his whole family.

"But Mummy," The ca driver was screaming into the phone as he dodged an oncoming motorcyclist, swerving off the road and then back on, once again, nearly missing a mini-van. "I can't come back, I am at work!... Can't you call the neighbor or something? I can't drive an hour away to you out of the tub!" The rest of the conversation was lost as the man transitioned into speaking rapid Hindu.

Through all of this Elanor was clutching onto her seat for dear life, she was left to wonder why the hell this guy hadn't been rammed off the road by a cop car yet?

Thankfully the sign for Sandy Shores appeared not too far ahead of them. Elanor eased her grip on the tattered cotton seat and went back to looking out the window. It hadn't been her first time through this area, maybe her third or fourth. Sandy Shores was notorious not only for the inbreeding red-necks but for the number of meth labs in the area who competed with each other to become the monopoly of drug dealing. It was like a red-neck mafia out there from the stories she had heard at her last job in terms of the shootouts and type of operations each group would pull to bring down another one. Despite this, the area it self-looked to be dead at the moment. Elanor figured everyone was sleeping or too high or drunk to leave the house properly.

The cab suddenly stopped with a jolt, sending her flying forward into the back of the driver's seat.

"You're here." The cab driver announced. "Now pay me before I get my cab stolen again."

Elanor tossed the money to him and slammed the door shut behind her. She watched the cab blaze down the empty road, swerving dangerously as it went. Puffing out her cheeks she turned to look at the bar.

It was called the Yellow Jack Inn. It looked just like she had thought it would be; the outside resembled an old-time saloon except for all the signs on it, a few old busted cars and trucks were parked outside reassuring her that some people were sober enough to drive. Or at least didn't care if they were sober or not.

She took a deep breath. ' _You can do this.'_ She told herself. _'Just don't do anything stupid.'_

Walking in, Elanor was greeted to the sound of a wailing country song and the sounds of two men beating each other to a pulp. An older woman at the bar stood there watching the two men with a tired look, like a mother who didn't care if her children killed each other or not.

"Just try not to get any blood on the floor!" She hollered, passing a beer to a man with a fat belly.

Elanor stood in the doorway not entirely sure what to do when the women took notice of her. She looked Elanor up and down and asked her if she was the girl she talked to on the phone.

"Yes," Elanor replied, giving the two men a sideways glance. "Is this a bad time?"

"Nope." The woman sighed, walking out from behind the bar. "This happens daily." She motioned for Elanor to follow her and lead her into her "Office", which resembled a janitor's closet with a desk and a safe. The woman sat down in a creaky chair and told Elanor to close the door.

"I'm going to tell you right off the bat," The woman said, pulling out a cigarette. "This is not a glamorous job. You ain't going to be serving to champagne or rum'n'cokes to the stars." She paused to light her cigarette, taking a long drag on it. "You're going to have to put up with drunk idiots like that," She motioned to the door. "Every night. With that said, did you bring some papers?"

Elanor nodded, pulling out a crumpled fold of resume papers handing it over to the woman. "If you don't mind me asking, I, well, didn't catch your name."

"Janet." The woman said. Her cigarette dangled dangerously between her lips as she flipped through the papers. "Says you got laid off from your last job and got fired for starting a fight with a customer at another." She looked up at her through the haze of smoke with a raised eyebrow. "Care to explain?"

Elanor shifted uncomfortably in the tiny office. She knew this was going to come up at some point.

"It was a few years ago, I worked at a restaurant." She explained. "A guy was complaining about how his food was under cook so I went to take it back. When I gave it back to him he claimed that I took my sweet time just to piss him off for bugging me." Elanor couldn't help but let out a humorless laugh remembering the absurdity of the situation. "I told him that he was crazy and he flipped out on me, yelling for my manager when...Yeah, you get the picture..."

She had trailed off at the end, not really wanting to go into detail about the scene that occurred.

Janet nodded and kept eyeing the papers. "Listen, kid." She said, at last, passing the papers back to her. "I'm desperate for some help at the moment and having someone who doesn't take bullshit from customers won't be such a bad thing..." She trailed off, enjoying the suspense she was leaving the young girl in.

"And that means?" Elanor urged, feeling a rush of nervous excitement run through her chest.

"As long as you don't actually assault any of the customers, you got the job, kid."

* * *

What the hell do you want me to do with them?" Chef hollered after Trevor.

"I don't give a shit!" Trevor called back, slamming the door of Liquor Ace. "Kill them, disembowel them, feed them to the sharks- just do whatever the fuck you want!"

Wade sat patiently in the back of the Bodhi, waiting for Trevor to get in. "Did they take anything?" He asked.

Trevor shook his head. "Naw, we got lucky. Just a couple of limp-dicks looking for a fix. Chef's dealing with 'em." As he said that a gunshot went off from the upper floor of the building followed by a shrill scream.

What had happened, according to Chef, was that he left to go pick up an order of liquid crystal meth for their next batch and when he got back he saw some figures up where the meth lab was. Trevor's first impression was that it was a couple of thugs from the Aztecas or the O'Neil's inbred family trying to mess with their shit to drive them out of business. But they got lucky. It was three addicts who were hoping to find some meth laying around while Chef was out. It was good timing too when Chef got there to stop them and put them under restraints for questioning. Nothing was taken and somehow nothing was broken.

Still, this was too close for Trevor. He was fuming thinking about how those idiots picked his meth lab to get their fix - without paying the fucking fee, non the less! It was clear that his company- Trevor Phillips Enterprise- wasn't feared or respected enough. He needed to set things right, he needed to make sure no one would try to step in his way again.

"So what now?" Wade asked.

Trevor shook his head, trying for once to clear his head of his anger. "We're gonna get a damn drink." Yes. Alcohol. The nectar of the gods. Surely this would make things right for the next few hours.

"Oh, oh!" Wade said, bouncing a bit to Trevor's great annoyance. "Can I get a rootbeer float?"

"S _uuuu_ re." Trevor drawled, rolling his eyes. "You get all the fucking rootbeer floats your munchie heart desires." Trevor started the car up and speed off towards the Yellow Jack Inn, not giving a damn at this point if he was welcomed or not there.

* * *

"We'll get a cab out there, ma'am. Should be only five minutes." The operator of the cab company said over the static of the phone.

"Thanks." Elanor replied as she headed for the door.

She walked out of the bar with her head held high and her face radiating with excitement instead of her usual blank, bored expression. Sure, she knew this job wouldn't be a piece of cake and she knew her patience would be tested but she knew -or at the very least, deluded herself- into thinking that she could handle anything that anyone had to throw at her.

And then the rusted Bodhi pulled up.

Elanor raised her eyebrow at the two men coming from the truck. One looked like he was about to kill someone at any second and the other with the many facial piercings looked like he was lost in some drug haze.

The homicidal one was grumbling incoherently under his breath as he climbed out. The one who came from the back began to complain about how this place didn't serve any rootbeer floats.

"Grow some balls, Wade!" The driver snapped, slamming the door shut. "We came here to drown our fucking sorrows not-" He stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed Elanor.

Trevor was almost surprised to see a new face at this bar. Literally, no one but the residents of Sandy Shores went there and perhaps the rare idiot who dared to stop to ask for directions.

While he was looking her up and down, Elanor was beginning to get irritated. By the time Trevor looked at her face again her dark eyes were starring him down like he was a bug that was about to get squashed. This look, he did not take kindly to.

"What's the matter, darlin'?" He said, taking a few steps toward her with a shit-eating grin. "Can't a man enjoy the view?"

Elanor didn't respond, she had made a deal with herself that she wouldn't get in a fight with anyone...At least until they got too handsy. She began to walk away wanting nothing more than to go home and set her mother's mind at ease that she was still capable of being a functioning member of society. Once again, Trevor didn't take kindly to the rejection.

"Hey," He reached out and grabbed her around her forearm, forcing her to stop and look at him. "Don't you know it's rude to walk away when someone's talking you?" He said through clenched teeth.

Elanor glared him down, anger starting to bubble up in her chest. "Oh really?" She said, in a calm manner. "I was under the impression that it was better to say nothing if you don't have anything nice to say."

Trevor's lips twitched up into a dark smirk. "Well, ain't you just a _smart ass_." He squeezed her arm harder as he said 'smart ass'. "I'll tell you what. I'll be the gentleman here and buy you a drink, and then maybe you can get that stick out of your ass and have an adult conversation. Huh?"

Elanor's eyes widened a bit. She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. She grabbed his wrist and ripped it off of her, still trying to walk away with what was left of herself control when he tried to grab her again. She turned around, ready to swing when the door to the Yellow Jack swung open.

" _TREVOR_!" Both of them stopped in their track at the sound of Janet's voice. "Get the hell away from my employ! I don't need her scared off before her first shift!"

Trevor looked from Janet to the girl, taking note that her fist was frozen in the air. He couldn't help but laugh at her, thinking how pitiful she would be if she tried to pick a fight with him of all people.

"New employ, huh?" He drawled, taking a step closer to Elanor. He leaned in close to her face, close enough for her to get a whiff of his hideous odor. "Well then, I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other. Won't we?"

When she didn't respond he just chuckled, walking away from her like he had won the fight. Elanor watched him go in, her hand still clutched into a fist.

' _I don't know how long I'll last with dicks like him.'_ She thought bitterly as her cab pulled up.


	3. Chapter 3

"So you got the job." Wilson stated after Cassandra had left.

Elanor nodded, taking a sip of her Pisswasser. "Yep.

Wilson shook his head. Like usual Elanor didn't tell her mother the whole truth. She had gotten away with telling her that she had gotten a job at a bar not too far from Rockford Hills. At first, Cassandra wasn't thrilled that it was that Elanor was at a bar but the fact it was close to Rockford made it up to her.

"Well," She had sighed. "At least the tips will be nice."

"Okay, so what are you gonna do about the car situation?" Wilson asked after a moment.

Elanor looked at him from the corner from her eye, not wanting to meet his hard gaze. "I dunno." She grumbled, staring down at the bottle in her hand. "I'll keep taking a cab until I can figure that out."

"You can use my car." Wilson suggested. "I get off before your shift so you could-"

She shook her head quickly. "No. I mean, thanks for the offer but I'd rather figure this out myself."

Wilson didn't respond. He looked at Elanor one last time before leaving, getting fed up with his stepdaughter's pride. She watched him leave the room before leaning back into the clean leather sofa, taking a bigger gulp of beer. In a way, Elanor did appreciate the fact Wilson cared enough to try to help her out. But all the same, he wasn't her father and her father had raised her to never take help from anyone.

 _"You don't need any damn handouts from no one._ " His words echoed in her mind. His voice harsh and raspy, just like she had remembered all those years ago. _"If you can't take care of yourself then you're just another useless piece of shit in this whole fucked up society."_

She placed a hand to her temple, trying to make the memory of him go away with another gulp of beer.

* * *

"F _uuu_ ck..." Trevor growled, tugging a dirty torn blanket over his face to block out the sunlight coming from his stained window. He felt his head pound at every slight sound. Last night had been a wild one; at the bar, he had managed to pick up two respectable Latinas who were looking for some extra work since their night at the truck stop was slow. So of course, being the knight in shining armor he is, Trevor came in and took these lovely ladies home to show them some good hospitality.

From the main room of the trailer, he could hear the two girls talking to each other in Spanish before leaving, ever so rudely slamming the door behind him.

"For fuck sakes!" He snapped, tossing the blanket to the ground he crawled out of bed, his eyes squinting against the afternoon sun. What made things worse besides his hangover was the fact he couldn't find his backup stash of speed. It had almost been a day and a half since he had gotten his fix, and it would rot in hell before he'd go for another hour without one little pill. He began to throw things around his home looking for any signs of his stash. "Where the fuck is it? Where are those little shits?"

As he began to lift his bed up the door swung open and Ron, the President of his business, walked in.

"Trev-" He began but was cut off by his boss's angry snarl.

"Have you fuckers ever heard of knocking?!"

"S-sorry, boss." Ron stuttered, taking a step back as Trevor stormed his way past him in nothing but his dirty underwear. "Bbbbad time?"

"Ya think?" Trevor began to toss open cabinets, shoving and tossing things around.

Ron watched his boss in silence, he knew better than to even blink around Trevor when he was in this mood. "You got anything?" Trevor called over.

Ron understood what he meant. He dug around his pockets and pulled out a fresh packet of meth that Chef had finished up earlier in the day. At the sight of it, Trevor had flipped on a dime; his anger melted away and he looked like he was going to weep...Almost.

As the glorious rush of the drug to over him, Trevor seemed to pull himself together. He let out a satisfied groan and leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he savored the feeling of the drug taking its effect. "M'kay Ron." He said after a minute. "Tell me what's up."

"We-well." Ron stuttered, starting to pace back and forth in front of the other man. "You see I got a call this morning. A-a really BIG call." Trevor nodded to show he understood. "It was a call from a b-big drug dealer-no, not even a drug dealer. That's too below them- a corporation, if you will."

"Get to the point, Ron. You're losing me here."

"It...It was from the Los Santos Triads."

At this Trevor had to do a double take at Ron, not sure he could entirely believe what he was saying. "You're bullshitting me right?"

"No sir!" Ron said quickly. "I-I'd never bullshit you! They called saying they might be interested in doing business with us!"

Trevor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. On one hand, this was fantastic news. The Triads were a large and powerful underground gang that were well known for their business in gunrunning and meth dealing all over the city. They were pretty much what he aspired to be himself, except within Blaine County. The only thing that seemed off to him was why did they call them? Of course, Trevor felt a great amount of pride that they would consider him as a partner but still, his 'company' was still pretty small scale. Even if he was hopped up on meth this scenario seemed off.

"Uhh...Boss?" Ron's shaky voice brought Trevor back to reality.

"Did they mention if they wanted to meet up?" Trevor question.

"Not...Not really." Ron went on hesitantly. "They told me th-they would be in contact with us...Ya know, give us updates and stuff..."

Trevor nodded. He pushed himself off the counter with a grunt and went for the door, Ron on his heels. "So, Ron." He said, slapping a large, scarred hand on his companion's shoulder making him jump. "Tell me what deals we to run today?"

"We h-have a few...But boss-"

"What _now_?!"

"Don't you think you should...Put some pants on at least?"

* * *

Elanor ran into her bedroom, vigorously rubbing a towel on her dark, damp hair. She had lost track of time during her jog and before she knew it it was an hour before her shift started. She had finished a quick shower so she didn't look or smell like a piece of shit and that in it of itself waisted too much time for her liking. She quickly grabbed the first pieces of clothing she saw in her draws and tugged them on.

Elanor took a quick look in the mirror to make sure she wasn't a mess. She looked fine enough but if it hadn't been for the time she would have picked something that hid her figure better. Perhaps it had to do with the fact her father always reminded her how he wished she was a boy and that she would always be weak because she wasn't one. Taking his words to heart she had always felt self-conscious about her feminine appearance.

Before she could change her mind Elanor saw the time on her alarm clock.

5:45 PM

Her shift started at six-thirty and the drive itself could take an hour to get from the Canals into Blaine County if the traffic was bad enough. She prayed that she would get that crazy Indian driver again as she began to dial for the cab company.

By the time she had reached the bar she was twenty minutes late to her shift. She slammed the door as she left the cab driver, ignoring them as they cussed her out for not leaving a tip.

From the number of cars, it seemed like the place would be mildly busy tonight. Her stomach turned a bit as her nerves got to her, she kept thinking about what would happen if a customer got to her. She couldn't lose another job and she would be damned if she lost it on the first night.

Mustering up what confidence she had she went into the bar. Elanor was greeted by the loud drunken laughs of the locals and the smell of tobacco, and cheap beer danced together in the air. The place definitely had more life in it than the other day.

As she made her way to the bar Janet came out of her office, when the older woman's eyes landed on Elanor a small smirk played on her deep red lips.

"Late on the first day." She commented, joining Elanor behind the bar. "Great way to start things up, huh?"

"Sorry." Elanor muttered, looking out at the customers. By this time more than a few had noticed her and were giving her odd looks that varied from confused to looking downright evil.

Janet had her back turned to the crowd as she began to pull out some beers for Elanor to give to some men at the bar. "Don't let it happen again, kid. I need someone dependable." She stood up and put a hand on her hip. "Can you do that?"

Elanor nodded eagerly. "Yes, ma'am."

"Janet. Call me Janet, please!" She cried, shaking her head. "God, I'm not that old to be called ma'am, am I?"

Knowing full well if she wanted to keep her job Elanor didn't respond. She passed the beers out to the men and noticed they too were looking at her oddly. All of them had an uncertain look about them as if they weren't sure they should be in the same room as her.

Elanor glanced over to Janet and mouthed out "What's wrong with them."

Janet pulled Elanor off to the side and spoke in a low voice so no one else could hear them.

"Look, kid. You're a stranger to these folks and people around here don't trust anyone who hasn't been here for more than a month."

'Guess I can forget about good tips.'

"Just...Act natural. Be good to the customers and they'll be good to you." The older woman explained, pouring a glass of old whiskey. "Simple as that, kid. Now get this whiskey to that fella' over there."

It was close to midnight by the time Trevor had finished his runs for the company. He had gone all around Blaine County doing dealings Ron had set up before time and had to stop at the lab to check on how production was going, and help Chef dispose of some 'trash'. It was hard work for a man like him, trying to make an honest living in this crazy fucked up world. But it was all worth it when the money came flowing in and oh, did it flow tonight.

He grinned to himself as he thought about how this was just the beginning. How one day this little operation of his would spread out like HIV in an infected prostitute. It would reach from the West Coast into Mexico, and the name Trevor Phillips would be feared by every cartel and gang leader in the underworld. He would be on top, no matter what the costs.

He drove through the empty streets of Sandy Shores, thinking to himself; " _Trevor, you did a damn good job today. You deserve to have a night to yourself after helping those poor bastards get their fix."_

Agreeing with himself Trevor began to turn his truck around to head into Los Santos to go to his favorite strip joint. Before he could do so he caught sight of the obnoxious **You're in Pisswasser Country** sign on the Yellow Jack in and that's when he remembered he had some unfinished business with a new employ at that fine establishment.

* * *

Elanor lazily watched a group of drunk friends across the room throw darts at one of their friends, barely missing his head by inches with each unsteady throw. With each dart landing loudly into the wall, it brought back another fond memory of her loving, nurturing father and how he did something similar to her when she was ten, except instead of darts they were bullets.

"Should I stop them?" Elanor called over to Janet, not taking her eyes off the only entertainment she had at this point.

Janet glanced over her shoulder, giving the death glare to the group of friends. "No, I got them." She grumbled. "After I get them out can you keep an eye on the place? I need to get some paperwork done before the feds are on my ass."

"No problem."

And surely it wouldn't be. Most of the people had left the bar almost an hour ago and the ones remaining were either passed out drunk or still didn't trust her enough to go near her.

She stifled a yawn as Janet began to order the men out, threatening them with the police not noticing a pair of headlights flash across the window. As the men left a familiar and annoying face appeared from the doorway.

"What the hell, Jan?" The man cried as he made his way in. "You trying to drive out all your business?"

Elanor's scanned over him, taking in his chaotic appearance. From his balding head to his filthy sweatpants, the man looked like he crawled out of a dumpster...Or maybe he just lived in one.

"Janet's busy," Elanor told him as he took a seat.

"Ah, I see." Trevor snickered. "You killed her didn't ya?"

"Wait-what?" Elanor blurted, her mind trying to connect the dots on what the hell this man was on about.

"You know; done her in? Kicked her rusty old bucket for her? You should have told me about it," He went on, scratching his face with his mouth hanging open slightly. "Could have helped ya get rid of the body."

Elanor was bewildered by his words, she was hoping that the last part of his statement was nothing but him being weird. Yet something about the way he said it told her he wasn't kidding entirely.

Trying to change the subject Elanor asked him if he wanted something.

Trevor screwed his eyebrows together, acting as if the question required serious thinking. "Mhh...Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll have some whiskey and your fucking name if ya don't mind, sweetie." He gave her a wink, making her internally gag.

As she poured him the drink she asked him what his name was.

"Didn't you catch it the other day when your banshee of a boss was screeching her head off?" He asked, snatching the glass away from Elanor and gulping the fiery liquid down in one go. He slammed the glass down and gave out a wild howl. "Goddamn, that's the good stuff. Why don't you be a good girl and give me another round."

She took the glass from him and poured him some more, as she did she was looking at the 'cut here' tattoo around his neck. She started to think how lucky this man was that she had forgotten her hunting knife at home. It wasn't until she heard Trevor's wild laugh again and the feeling of the whiskey running down her hand did she realize she had been spacing out for too long.

Trevor watched her with an amused look as she scrambled to clean the mess. "You always struggle with simple tasks or is it because you're too enamored by my charm and good looks?"

Ignoring his statement she began to rub the wooden top down with vigor, she ground her teeth trying to shove down any remarks that could land her into trouble with him or Janet.

"So your name is Trevor then." She asked, trying to ignore the heat going to her cheeks from her careless mistake.

"Good job, Sherlock." He said, adjusting himself so he was leaning up close to her. Elanor hesitantly looked up to him, looking at his eyes she could see the wheels turning in his head as he thought up ways to antagonize her.

"Is this what you like to do with your free time?" She snapped, tossing the rag at him. "Bother people when you're bored?"

Trevor glared down at the rag and flung it off like it was a bug. He looked back at her with a thick eyebrow raised. "And do always treat your customer's like shit?"

Her mouth opened for a comeback but was cut off by Janet who came out to see what the hell was going on.

"Is there a problem?" When Trevor turned around to see her, she shook her head in distaste. "That answers everything. You're supposed to be banned!"

"I'm banned from a lot of things but that doesn't stop me from doin' them." He snorted, taking a mouth full of whiskey.

Janet's eyed him before turning to her employ. "Is he giving you shit, Elanor?"

Trevor slowly turned back to her, giving her his classic shit-eating grin. "Yeah, _Elanor_. Am I giving you more shit than your pretty ass can handle?"

She really wanted to jump over the counter and knock that smug look on his face. Yet that would be too easy and would mean he would have won, he would have broken her. Elanor's lips twitched into a distorted smile, looking Trevor straight in his dog shit colored eyes.

"No. Not at all." She growled.

She had a feeling as Janet left once more that this would be a long two hours before her shift would end.

* * *

Cassandra was sitting at the kitchen island in a worn out violet robe, her short copper hair tucked behind her ears as she mindlessly swirling her tea bag in the dark, cold liquid. She looked up at the kitchen clock to check the time.

2:51 AM.

She yawned and went back to watching her tea bag do laps around her cup, patiently waiting for Elanor to come back.

Despite Wilson trying to coax her into bed but Cassandra insisted on staying up to greet her daughter when she came home. She was nervous to hear how her first day went from Elanor's previous track record with being unlikeable when it came to a job that involved socializing. She still couldn't fathom why she had picked a bar of all places to work where one was expected to be a social butterfly in a way. Cassandra considered it a God sent at this point if Elanor was able to have a friendly conversation with a stranger let alone talk to one without looking like was a chore to even do so. Still though, perhaps it was a step in the right direction. Maybe this job would out of comfort zone, perhaps she might even meet someone...

She lifted her head as the door opened, her daughter walked in rubbing her eyes and letting her hair out of a poorly done bun.

"Hi, honey." Cassandra said in an overly cheery tone. Elanor grunted, barely looking up at her as she tossed her coat down on the couch. Cassandra fidgeted a bit wanting to hear how things had gone. "How as work?

Evading the question Elanor ask her why she was still up? "Don't you have some yoga class in the morning?"

A pang of hurt went through her mother's chest, her smile flat-lining. "I just wanted to see how things went, dear."

Her daughter shrugged. "Fine. Nothing too bad happened." Elanor went to the fridge and pulled out a leftover sandwich and a bottle of water. "It's been a long shift, Mom. I just to eat and hit the sack."

"Oh," Her mother murmured. "Maybe we can talk tomorrow?"

Elanor didn't respond as she walked to her room, locking the door behind her.

Cassandra sat there alone once more, feeling the corners of her eyes begin to sting. She fought back the tears and went to pick up her daughter's jacket, as she went to hang it up Elanor's wallet fell to the ground. Cassandra swore and picked it up, just before she was about to put it back into a pocket she noticed a picture peaking out from the folds of the wallet. Always being one to snoop Cassandra pulled it out without a second thought. What she saw made her blood run cold.

It was an old picture of Elanor and her father, Allen, kneeling down in deep snow in front of a dead elk. Elanor held a hunting rifle in her hand while her father lifted the dead animal's head up by the antlers to show off to the camera. To an outsider, this would look like a normal keep-sake from a father-daughter bonding experience, but to Cassandra, it was another thing to remind her of what she had done to her daughter by leaving her with that...That madman.

Her eyes scanned across the faded faces; Elanor was thirteen in the photo and her brown hair was barely past her jawline and her father looked like a mountain man with his graying brown hair, and nearly black beard. But what really shook her was how identical the cold, harden looks on their faces were. Their dark eyes staring back at her with no sign of any emotion, not even a hint of pride for the trophy they had collected.

Cassandra clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from letting out a sob. Why did Elanor have this? Why did she want anything to remember that man by? Cassandra's first reaction was to tear the photo up and throw it in the garbage where it belonged. Before she could go through with it the sound of Elanor's door made her quickly shove the picture back in the wallet.

Elanor came back out from her room, she had forgotten to grab her phone from her jacket. As she made her way into the main room she saw her mother holding her jacket in her hand, her eyes rimmed red.

"Mom?" She asked, taking an uncertain step closer. "You...Okay?"

Cassandra nodded, forcing a large, painful smile onto her face. "Yes, sweetie. Everything is fine." She lied.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been three weeks since her first shift at the Yellow Jack Inn and it would be nice to say that Elanor and Trevor had found common ground. They had put their differences aside and were friends...But then that would be a load of horseshit, now wouldn't it?

To say the least, Elanor found a tolerance of Trevor, learning to tune him out like he was an annoying little boy. There would be nights where they would go back and forth until one of them got bored, ending the discussion and other nights were civil compared to others. Besides this, Elanor had learned more about Trevor's reputation when Janet had pulled her aside one night after a shift.

"Did I do something wrong?" Elanor had asked her.

"No, kid, just listen." Janet said quickly, wanting to get this over with so she could go back home and check her e-mails on her dating profile. "I've seen you and Trevor talking a lot lately," Talking wasn't the best way of putting it. "So I thought I would warn you...Don't get on his bad side. This guy - he is completely mental. I've seen him take on four men at once and beat all of them close to their graves!" Janet sighed, running a hand through her short red hair whilst the other one looked for a cigarette in her pocket. "What I'm trying to say is, watch yourself. Okay?"

Even though Elanor had a faint idea that Trevor didn't have all his eggs in the basket, she took heed of Janet's warnings. It would only be a couple nights later when Elanor would first witness the extent of Trevor's anger.

It was a busy Friday night, Trevor had came in around his usual time but was focused on business instead of pleasure. He sat at the bar tapping his hand impatiently waiting for a few members of a gang known as the Lost MC to come and pick up some wasn't unusual for him to do business in public around there, practically everyone in this bar had done something illegal.

Elanor watched him from across the room, noting how anxious and irritated he looked. She quickly gave the customer she was serving their order and went over to him, thinking he was probably pissed that he wasn't getting served on as fast as he wanted to.

"Fancy seeing you here." She said, preparing him his usual whiskey when he stopped her.

"No." His voice was sharp and calm, not like his usual wild self. "I need something stronger...You got vodka?"

Elanor didn't question him. She got the bottle and poured him a shot. "What's the special occasion?" She asked him as he took the shot down like it was water. His tolerance for strong liquor never ceased to amaze her.

"None of your damn business." He snapped, pushing the glass back to her.

She took the hint. After filling up his glass she left the bottle for him and went back to tending other customers.

Not too long after his third shot, Trevor felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around he saw the leader of the leather-chap ass hats; Johnny K. Behind him were three other gang members along with Ashley, Johnny's girlfriend, and Trevor's occasional fuck buddy. She didn't meet his eye as Johnny took the stool next to Trevor.

"I'm assuming you've got the stuff?" Johhny said, pulling out a roll of money from his pockets and sliding it into Trevor's hand. Trevor took a glance down at the thick cylinder of cash and pocketed it.

He handed Johnny the pack of drugs and turned back to the bottle of vodka, not caring to use the dinky shot glass.

"Damn, thanks man." Johnny said, a grin spreading on his face.

"Mhh." Trevor grunted as he wiped off some of the liquor from his chin. "Keep it down. I don't need the warden on me." He nodded over to Janet who seemed to be busy having a conversation with some people over by the pool table.

Elanor was watching Trevor and the group of people around him after a minute of trying to ignore the situation. Her stomach tied into a knot after seeing the drug exchange. Of course she had the feeling that Trevor wasn't one to make money the legal way, still, she didn't think he had the balls to do it in a crowded bar. Yet again, a lot of illegal shit probably happens at the bar that no one cares to mention.

Johnny looked up and saw Elanor looking at them. He turned his head over to Trevor and nodded. "Who's the new girl?"

Trevor shrugged. "Just a kid." He replied turning back to the vodka.

Johnny waved Elanor down and ordered a round of beers for his group. After she had gone Johnny asked Trevor if he wanted to go get shot up with them. Trevor scowled at him before saying he had other plans.

When Elanor returned with the drinks one of the other motorcyclists that were with Johnny leaned over the bar, eyeing her upper half in the gray t-shirt. "Hey, darlin'." He said in a thick voice. "What's a girl like you working in a dump like this?"

Elanor snorted at his comment and turned her back on them. She had been getting the typical harassment all barmaids were expected to endure, apparently the customers had decided she wasn't a mole for the police.

The man eye's then traveled down to her butt, he whistled loudly making Elanor visibly cringe. Trevor took notice but said nothing.

A few minutes later the man had on purpose knocked his beer over, letting it shatter onto the ground. Janet looked over from the pool table and told Elanor to pick it up. Elanor glared at the man who gave her a smug smirk, her hands began to flex into fists as she went to get the broom and dustpan. When she was out of earshot the man leaned over to one of his friends, whispering loud enough for Trevor hear him.

"I'm going to get this one by the end of the night."

Trevor rolled his eyes. "Sure," He snorted. "With charm like that ladies must be begging you to nail them right then and there."

The man glared at Trevor. "This isn't none of your business, man." He growled.

Trevor returned his threat with a deadly look, his mind already getting fogged up with anger by the time Elanor came around to clean up the mess.

She had no choice but to crouch down close to the man in order to clean up the glass and the beer. The man looked over to his friend with a wink, reaching down he gave Elanor a firm smack on her ass that echoed throughout the room. Stunned Elanor immediately jumped up, smacking the man across the face.

'Good one, kid.' Trevor thought as the scene played out.

Elanor's face was going red, she didn't know how to feel; anger and embarrassment were the main emotions going through her head.

The man rubbed his face and gave a humorless laugh. "Is that how you act when a guy compliments you?"

"C-compliments?!" Elanor sputtered, anger now taking over. She wanted nothing more than to hit him but she could feel Janet's eyes on her. She needed the job. She turned around trying to get away from him when the man grabbed her by the waist, trying to take her in his lap.

"Come on, don't be like that." He purred, trying to rub his other hand against her thigh when she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow-knocking the wind out of him.

"Fuck off!" She growled, still trying to get away from him.

"Get back here you bitch." The man wheezed going for her again when the unexpected happens; Trevor stepped in.

Trevor grabbed the man by the back of his leather jacket, yanking him off his barstool onto the floor. Trevor hovered over the man, his teeth bare now as he growled out: "The lady doesn't want you, limp dick. Can you take a hint or do you need me to give you another one?"

"Trevor, man-" Johnny tried going over to Trevor to stop him, but Ashely grabbed him by the arm begging him for them to leave.

By now everyone in the room was watching, whether they were drunk or sober they knew better to mess with Trevor when he had that look in his eye. Well, all but the man Trevor was dealing with.

The man got up quickly, getting into Trevor's face. "What's wrong with you, old man?" He sneered, leaning in close enough to touch the other man's nose. "You jealous that you're not getting any nowadays?"

Before anyone could blink Trevor's fuse had been lit. He smashed his head against the other man, catching him off guard long enough for him to give him an uppercut to the jaw, sending a few teeth scattering out of his mouth.

Elanor stood frozen, watching the scene before her. She had heard the rumors but nothing prepared her as she saw Trevor go at the man. His face was red, veins were popping out of his head and neck, and by the look of things, he was far from done.

People in the bar began to scream and cheer, some shouting for more blood and other's taking bets. Janet tried to get through to stop the fight but a tight ring was forming around the action, making it hard for anyone to get through.

Johnny and Ashely had left but the two other bikers stayed behind, grabbing Trevor by other arms, holding him back as the man he was beating up got control of himself long enough to begin kneeing Trevor in the guts.

"You like that old man? Huh?!" The man screamed as Trevor let took the hits. He then grabbed Trevor by the shirt, his fist ready to go for Trevor's face.

Trevor braced himself for the hit as he twisted his body, trying to break free from the two bikers. The crowd went wild; they wanted blood.

Before the man's fist could come in contact with Trevor's face, Elanor stepped in this time with a barstool. She heaved it over her head with all the strength she had and brought it down on the man's back. The man collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud, landing in a mess of splintered wood. Elanor turned her attention to the two bikers holding Trevor, both surprised that she had stepped in. Taking advantage of this Trevor twisted free and went for the throat of one on his left, wrapping two large hands around the biker's throat. While that was going on, Elanor had dropped the remains of the barstool and grabbed a bottle of beer, smashing the end of it on the bar.

The biker took a step back, putting his hands up in the air. "H-hey lady, please." He stammered backing up into a wall. "It was only...Only a joke-"

"Shut up!" She snarled, her voice became more throaty and gruff. Her eyes were wide and her teeth were bared, she almost looked like a replica of Trevor as he strangled the other biker.

Before anyone could die, Janet -sadly- made her way through the crowd. "ENOUGH!" She screamed, causing some members of the crowd to quiet down. It wasn't enough though to stop Trevor and Elanor. Janet looked around the room fanatically waving her hands. "You idiots! Get them out of here!"

A few large men from the crowd followed her orders like dogs; two grabbed Trevor prying his bloody hands off the biker's neck, while one picked Elanor up like a sack of potatoes.

The men dragged them both out of the bar, tossing them into the parking lot. Trevor stumbled out, swearing every word humanly possibly while Elanor was tossed onto the ground. She laid there in the parking lot catching her breath. Janet's voice rang out above Trevor's but the only words she caught was; "You're fired!"

"Don't even think about coming back!" Janet shouted at Trevor, her face red and her eyes were tight slits. "Now get your asses off my property before the cops get here or there will be hell to pay!" She went back into the bar, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, fuck you too you old cow!" Trevor shouted back at the door. "And if you think that's going to stop me from coming back...Fucking cunts!" He snapped kicking the nearest car.

Elanor didn't pay any attention to him, she was still dazed at what had happened.

'Good job, El. You managed to fuck up your life again.'

Elanor slowly crawled up, her clothes covered in dirt. She began to walk away from Trevor, her mind over flooding with emotions. "Stupid, stupid..." She said under her breath, her voice shaking.

Taking a moment to stop beating up a random car Trevor noticed Elanor making her way to the road. "Hey!" He shouted after her. She stopped but didn't look at him. "Aren't you going to say a damn 'thank you'?"

Elanor's hands tightened. She spun around to him with a face of pure anger. "For what?! Beating the shit out of some guy? For helping me lose my job?! Well then, thank you very fucking much, Trevor!" She shouted.

"Oh, hold on there you shit!" He roared back, coming straight for her. Elanor stood her ground, her mind wasn't in the right place to register that she was in danger. Trevor stood a foot away from her, his chest was heaving as he tried to control the rage that was consuming him. "If it wasn't for me," He said through his teeth. "You would have probably been manhandled by the fucking bike-riding-ass-eating monkey!"

Elanor stupidly took a step towards him, not backing down. "I can take care of myself."

"News flash, _princess_ ," Trevor whispered mockingly. "You can't." Without another word he turned around and went for his Bodhi, leaving Elanor alone by the road.

' _He's right._ ' She thought as her body shook violently.

Elanor fought back tears as she rummaged in her pocket for her phone to call a cab, she couldn't stand being there anymore. When she got it out the phone wouldn't turn on. She desperately clicked the power button repeatedly, but nothing happened. She swore loudly, wanting to chuck the phone at a piece of road kill but stopped herself. She just stood there, trembling as she began to cry.

Elanor thought about how stupid she must have looked, trying to force herself to stop but she couldn't. It wasn't loosing the job that pushed her over the edge. It was the realization that she wasn't able to stand up for herself when needed.

Perhaps her father was right. Perhaps she was weak after all...

Trevor had managed to get his car started after a few tries. He began to back out of the parking lot, trying to ignore Elanor. It was her fault after all. If he hadn't stepped in something definitely would have happened to her. And he didn't step in because he cared about her. No. He just didn't like women being mishandled by a man when clearly she didn't want nothing to do with him. He had been raised right by his flower of a mother to respect women, and he'd be damned if he ever did something against him mothers word.

That and it gave him an excuse to get into the fight.

He began to drive down the road, looking back in his side mirror to see Elanor still standing on the side of the road. His mind told him to mind his own damn business but his gut told him to turn back. He looked back one more time at her small figure and rolled his eyes.

"What the hell?" He growled, swerving the truck back around.

Elanor barely noticed Trevor's truck coming back for her until it came screeching to a stop right by her, the headlights blinding her.

Trevor didn't look at her. He kept his eyes glued in front of him at the rows upon rows of trailers. "Get in."

Elanor sniffled pathetically. She rubbed her eyes but didn't look at him. "I don't need your pity." She said under her breath.

He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Why was she making this so damn hard?

"It isn't pity." He snapped, making her jump. "It's called being a good fucking person. And if you haven't got the memo, I am _Mr. Fucking-Wonderful._ Now get in before I leave your ass behind!"

 _'What else do you have to lose?_ " She thought.

Swallowing her pride, which in itself was a hard thing to do, she got in his truck. Trevor then slammed on the gas and sped off down the dark road.

* * *

' _He can't be serious._ ' She thought as they pulled up to a busted, grungy trailer.

"Welcome to paradise!" Trevor announced, jumping out of the car.

"More like purgatory." She muttered getting out and following him up the front steps.

Trevor kicked open the door and strolled in, going for the fridge. Elanor stood in the doorway, hesitantly leaning her head in to see the unsightly mess that Trevor called home. Beer bottles littered the place along with traces of rats and cockroaches, who happily scuttled the floor without a care in the world. Random pictures of swimsuit models and a neon sign hung around the place making sure everyone one knew this would forever be a bachelor's pad. Besides the fact the place was in all terms a dump, Elanor didn't really want to go in because she wasn't sure what Trevor was up to. Why did he take her to his home of all places? Was he expecting something of her?

'Just go in, you'll live.'

Taking her own advice Elanor slowly went into the trailer, sitting down on the stained stripe sofa. She watched Trevor dig through the fridge, hearing items being knocked over and a few breaking. He hummed as he did this and pulled out two beer bottles, tossing one carelessly to Elanor who barely caught it in time.

"Thanks." She said as Trevor joined her on the couch. "For...Everything tonight."

"No problemo." He replied cracking his beer open. "Just do me a favor and don't turn this into a touchy-feely sob fest."

Elanor chuckled at him. She was glad for a minute that Trevor was...Trevor. She leaned back into the lumpy furniture and rolled the cold bottle between her hands unconsciously, not really in the mood drink.

The room went quiet for a bit; Elanor didn't know what to say to Trevor and Trevor, quite frankly, didn't care enough to talk.

"So..." Elanor began, rubbing the back of her neck. Trevor looked up from his beer, he could tell that she was out of her element when it came to socializing. "Do you got a job?"

For an instance, Trevor looked offended, real offense this time. "What? You think I'm some crack head that lays on his ass all day?" Elanor opened her mouth to apologize but Trevor cut her off, continuing on. "I'll have you know, princess," Elanor cringed as he called her that again. "That I happen to be an entrepreneur. That's right, I am an industrialist banking in on this era of superficial bastards needing to get their kicks through...Unethical means." He explained.

"You sell drugs." Elanor bluntly stated.

"Pretty much." Trevor said shamelessly. "I call it, Trevor Phillips Industries." His chest puffed out with pride as he said it, gazing off like a star eye child who had just witnessed their first Playboy. He then turned back to Elanor with a new, lighter air about him as he went on talking about his company. It soon became clear to her that his 'business' was practically his baby. He boasted about how he planned to expand the company beyond Blaine County into a sort of international business.

"Yep, soon well be big all over the state of California and then we'll take Mexico by the balls." He laughed, finishing up the rest of his beer. He gave a satisfied belch, tossing the beer bottle to the side. "You gonna even start yours?"

Elanor glanced down at her unopen bottle, completely forgetting about it. "No. I don't feel like drinking."

She tossed it over to Trevor, taking a good long look at him as he opened up it up. She knew that Trevor made his money off of some illegal means, he didn't exactly look like the guy that would be a salesman or an accountant. Still, she knew drugs dealers made a decent amount of money and if Trevor was planning on expanding his trade to guns across the state, and even past the border then perhaps it was an opportunity she wanted to check out.

"How much do you make?" She said boldly, catching him off guard.

Trevor tapped his chin, doing the numbers in his head. "I think on a day to day basis...Maybe between five hundred to a thousand." He paused. He saw the look in Elanor's eyes and he almost instantly knew what she was thinking. "Hell no." He said firmly, getting off the couch.

Elanor followed him. "What? I didn't say anything!"

"I know what you're thinking, princess and the answer is NO." He went on, walking outside to the front porch to grab a rag soaked in gasoline.

"I'm in need of a job."

"Obviously." He snorted, pressing the rag up to his face and deeply inhaling. "Ooooh, fuck." He moaned, his knees buckling.

Elanor took a step back from him giving him a wary look, wondering if she really wanted to go through with this idea. Even with every fiber of her common sense screaming at her to run like hell a little voice in the back of her head told her to go for it. She needed the money and at this point, she figured she couldn't hit lower than this...Well, maybe being a prostitute would be rock bottom.

"What do I have to do to prove to you that I can be of...Of service to you and your...Business."

Trevor took another inhale of the gas rag before tossing it to the side. "Nothing, kid, I've made up my mind. You wouldn't last a day doing that type of shit."

He walked inside of the trailer leaving Elanor alone on the front porch. She pressed her lips together. There had to be a way to convince him. She was about to follow him in to pursue the conversation when her eyes landed on a gun. It was a 9mm. pistol, laying down underneath the table where Trevor had gotten the gas rag. Elanor crouched down and carefully picked it up. She slid her hands around the weapon like she was a blind person, needing to know what the object in her hands was. But she wasn't blind and she knew exactly what she was holding. As she inspected the weapon she heard a trash can being knocked over, rising up she saw her chance standing across the street.

Trevor had sprawled himself out on his bed. The gasoline had done it. The combination of the alcohol from the last hour and that had made his mind daze. He was staring up at his ceiling watching a large, hairy spider crawl across it in a peaceful haze when it was interrupted by the sound of a gun going off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Before the chapter starts, I would like to thank everyone who is supporting or randomly reading the story. It means a lot to me knowing that this garbage is actually giving entertainment to some people. Also, I am open to critics. So if you have any thoughts on making the story better feel free to let me know, it will help in the long run. Anyways, thank you for your time and enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Elanor looked across the street to see the animal she had shot. It was a coyote, a vermin around these parts. The animal was rummaging through the garbage when she shot it in the stomach. After the echo of the gunshot faded away all that was left was the war cries of crickets and the sound of Trevor trying to find his way to the door without killing himself. As she lowered the gun she felt suddenly nostalgic. She hadn't touched a gun in a few months and it had been the first time in years she had killed something, she could swear at that point her father was looking up from Hell at her screaming his rejoice.

"Jesus," Trevor's voice echoed from the trailer. He managed to make it from the bedroom to the front door in one piece, his vision barely working. "Can you keep that shit d-" He stopped and noticed the gun in Elanor's hand. If had learned anything in life it was never to let an emotionally unstable woman hold a gun. "Okay, kid. Drop the gun and I promise I'll kill you quickly."

Elanor raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not planning on using it on you."

"That's what they all say before they lose their shit." Trevor said, snatching the gun out of her hand. "Now kindly explain why you were playing with my toys?"

Elanor rubbed her neck, fidgeting a bit. "Weeell...I might have shot something..." She nodded her head over to the dead coyote across the street.

Trevor squinted his eyes. "Bullshit." He grumbled, staggering down the stairs to make his way over to the body. _'There was no way this princess could have done that_.' He thought as he came up to it. His vision focusing now he could see in the dim light the animal had been shot in the stomach and had bled out, it was a mess but it killed it none the less.

"I will admit," He hollered back to her. "Good shot for a princess."

Elanor glared over at him, her face heating up a bit. "Stop calling me that."

"I will once you prove otherwise." He snapped back, coming back onto his property.

"Then what do I have to do?" She cried, throwing her hands into the air getting fed up with this run around conversation. "I'll do anything."

Trevor paused, cocking an eyebrow. "Anything."

Elanor caught the look in his eye making her rethink he words. "Let me rephrase that. Anything that doesn't involves...Genitals."

"There goes my fun as the boss." Trevor leaned up against the door frame of the trailer and began to analyze her. She was a decent shot. He'd give her that. She backed him up in the bar, even if she had flipped her shit on him a bit...Now that he thought about it, why did she help him out?

"You don't like me much, right?" He questioned. "If so, then why did you help me out tonight? And don't give me any sugar-coated bullshit or I'll shove this gun up your ass."

Elanor had to think about it for a moment, even she couldn't place her finger on it. "I guess...Because the guy had it coming to him and no one else was going to help you out...So...Yeah, it wasn't a fair fight." She wrapped it up quickly, trying not to think more in to the question then needed.

Trevor absorbed the answer and went back into thought. Perhaps, he thought, with a little work, a bit of fine-tuning, he could turn her into an ally. Someone he could trust and use to the climb the corporate ladder in this game between him and the other meth labs. Just maybe he could turn this kid into something useful after all.

Elanor stayed still. She had notice Trevor's off gaze and hoped this meant he was thinking things over and not planning a way to dump her corpse in the middle of the desert.

"Alright, kid." He said suddenly. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, keeping her in place as he spoke. "I'll give you shot," Elanor's face almost broke into a smile at this. "BUT! I'm not going let you get by easily. You're going to have to work your pretty little ass of like the rest of us and get your hands dirty. Got it?"

Elanor nodded vigorously. "Yes. Oh God, thank you!" She could have almost jumped up and hugged him if it wasn't for his next statement.

"Good. Now, why don't we make this official with a quick blowjob?"

Elanor's face froze. It was like her mind had shut down like a broken computer just by those words alone. "What?"

"Look, we've got options!" He went on. "You could slap me around, jerk me-FUCK!" He cried as Elanor grabbed his crotch.

She glared at him with a dark look in her eyes. "You were saying?" Her hand tightened a bit, making him squirm.

"On second thought," Trevor wheezed, grabbing her wrist to pry it off his balls. "I repeal my previous statement."

"That's what I thought."

* * *

Cassandra was pacing the length of the bedroom, checking her phone every few minutes. It was six in the morning and Elanor's room was empty. Wilson was busy getting ready for work at the hospital and kept looking back in the mirror on the wall to see Casandra's pale face getting paler and paler.

"You have to calm down." Wilson urged her. "Elanor is an adult, she can handle herself. Perhaps her phone died."

The words seemed to bounce off of Cassandra. She had begun to bite her freshly manicured nails as she thought of what could have happened to her daughter. Elanor never specified where her work was so she could find a way to contact the bar to see if they knew where she was. The suspense was killing her, almost literally.

Wilson grabbed her by the shoulders, making her stop and look at him. He took a deep breath in and swiped a few hair strands out of her face. "Cassy...You really need to calm down. Worrying about her won't do any good. I'm sure she'll be back in no time." She didn't respond. Cassandra nervously fidgeted with the phone in her hands. Wilson sighed and kissed her on the forehead, rushing off to work before he was late.

When he left Cassandra sat down on their large bed, staring t the phone like it had all the answers in the world. She couldn't lose her daughter again, not after leaving her with her had too much to make up to her.

Her phone suddenly went off, the loud buzzing startling her out of her thoughts. As she answered the phone her chest welled up with hope.

"Hello?" She asked urgently. "Elanor is that you?"

"Is this a bad time?" The voice on the other end was definitely not her daughter.

Cassandra deflated a bit at this. "Oh, hi Amanda."

It was Amanda De Santa. Cassandra knew Amanda from a few yoga classes they had together and they started talking. The two of them had gone out for a lunch a few times but very rarely had they done anything other than that and talk when they saw each other during the classes.

"No, it isn't a bad time." Cassandra reassured her. "I was just expecting a call from my daughter..."

"Ah," Amanda said with an understanding tone. "You're daughter is an ungrateful shit too, huh?"

Cassandra was quick to put that comment down. "No! No, I mean...She hasn't called me, I'm just worried."

"Maybe she's out with a guy."

Cassandra had to laugh at that comment. The idea of Elanor being with a man was the last thing she had to worry about. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, yes." Amanda said, her voice suddenly becoming more serious. "Look, I'm bored and my family is a mess. I was wondering if you would want to get your family together and we all could go out to dinner tomorrow."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. Amanda would always make snide comments about her family, saying how her daughter didn't respect her and how her husband might as well be a squatter in the house, so she didn't quite understand why Amanda would want her to even meet her family.

When confronted with that question Amanda quickly brushed it off, saying that it was nothing to think about.

"So, what do you say? Tomorrow at eight?"

"Um...Sure." Cassandra said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Great!"

"Who are you talkin' to?" A male's voice called from the background with a bit of a New York like accent. "It better not be that fuckin' tennis instructor!"

"Fuck off Micheal!" Amanda snapped, making Casandra flinch away from the phone. Before Casandra had the chance to say goodbye Amanda abruptly hung up. The woman stared at the phone in disgust.

"No wonder she doesn't have any friends." She said, tossing the phone onto the bed.

* * *

Elanor scrunched her face up as she felt something on her lips. Rubbing her mouth only to feel something hard against it and now moving up closer to her nose. Slowly she opened her eyes, trying to blink away the blurriness of sleep from them. As they began to focus she saw two little antennas peeking past her nose.

Yes.

She had a cockroach on her face.

Elanor almost screamed as she batted it off quickly, beating the innocent bug with an empty beer can. Only when it was dead did she managed to let out a little yelp as she began to check herself for any more unwanted guests. Satisfied with the results she relaxed a bit, sitting up on Trevor's stained sofa. She could hear Trevor's loud snores and grunts from the other room, he had passed out soon after he had agreed to give her a chance. Said she would be an intern to him, learning the work of an honest man's trade and all that other crap. Seeing how her phone was dead and she didn't want to take the chance digging around in Trevor's pocket for his phone she had decided to sleep on on couch.

While she was busy getting herself together a loud thud brought her attention to her new boss.

"Trevor?" She called.

"I. _Hate_. Mornings."

Elanor shook her head and went over to check on him. She found him face first on the floor not moving. Before she could try helping him up there was an abrupt knock at the door.

Trevor moaned, barely lifting his face off the disgusting floor. "Why won't you people leave me alone?!" He cried, his voice muffled a bit. "All I want is to be alone in this fucking nightmare!"

The young woman ignored him and opened to door to see two men standing there; one of them she recognized from the first day she encountered Trevor and the other was someone new. He was a skinny, jumpy sort of guy, she would have taken him for a fisherman if it was a different situation.

"O-oh." The skinny man stammered, casting his eyes up and down Elanor. "I didn't...Realize you had...Company."

Elanor raised an eyebrow, not liking the way he said the last word. "You gonna explain to me where you were going with that comment?"

With no warning, Trevor came butting in surprising everyone. "Whoooa! Down, princess!"

Elanor's lips curled up into a snarl but she didn't say anything. Trevor nodded for the other two to come in, leading them all into the sad little corner known as the kitchen.

"Boys, I'd like you to met our very first intern." Trevor waved his hand towards Elanor. "El, these fuckers are Wade-" He pointed to the one that looked like a lost puppy who had been kicked one too many times. "And Nervous Ron." He pointed to the other one who's nature already gave away the reason why he had that nickname. "Now, I know we run a business most would call 'unlawful' or 'substandard' to those money machine pricks in the city. But Goddamn it, I want all you miserable fucks to get along so we can get back to running that piece of shit of a business, that I poured what's left of my miserable soul into! You got it?!"

The two men fell into line perfectly, nodding their heads and almost screaming their agreements. Elanor on the other head stood there with her normal poker face on.

"Nice pep talk." She commented.

A bit of pride entered Trevor's face, he ran a hand through his vanishing hairline like he was trying to slick it back. "I've always prided myself on my eloquent way with words."

Elanor swallowed back a laugh and watched Trevor run the other two into the ground with his intimidating personality. Ron was beginning to stammer on about some meeting with a man, Elanor peered over trying to get more details when Ron suddenly stopped. He looked from Trevor and pointed a finger in her direction.

"Y-you sure it'd be a good idea for her to hear about this?"

With a flare of dramatics Trevor sided with Ron, ordering him and Wade to go outside so they could talk. He then turned upon Elanor. "And you. Go do some...I don't know, intern shit."

Elanor glared at him. "Like what, your highness?"

Trevor puffed out his cheeks and smacked his hands together. "I don't know...Like, get me a cup of coffee before I rip that damn tongue out of your mouth." With that he left, slamming the door behind him.

"Ron..." Trevor drawled, rubbing his hands together slowly. "Tell me all about your little conversation with the Triads."

"Great news," Ron said, Wade standing behind him nodding his head even though he didn't fully understand what they were talking about. "Mr. Cheng wants to meet in person with you to discuss business."

"Fuck!" Trevor cried startling both of his men. "This is very, _very_ good news for us boys. If we get the Chinese on our side this will open doors for us." A greedy look crossed Trevor's eyes as he thought of the money he could cash in if the deal went right. Hell, he'd probably have enough money to find a way to bust an old buddy out of federal prison; after all, money speaks louder than words.

"They're coming in Monday, sir." Ron went on more energetically. "They want a look at the l-lab, said the-they want to get business done as soon as possible."

"My type of people. Don't waste time beating around the bush, no, they dig right in and get down to the damn point." Trevor gave a loud howl at the end, feeling like he could take on anything at that moment-with or without the speed...

Well, maybe not without the speed.

As she carelessly poured the coffee grounds into the machine, Elanor looked through the window curiously watching her new boss literally jumping for joy on his front porch. She told herself to get used to his bizarre mood swings because she was in it for the long haul. If it wasn't for her wanting to leave her mother and Los Santos behind so badly she would have gone back to wasting her life away at a minimum wage job. Somewhere in the black pit, she called her heart she prayed that this 'job' was a good plan and not just something that would put her in the grave faster than she wanted.

Trevor walked back into the trailer, pushing past Elanor to go into the sink trying to find a cup that wasn't too filthy. "Mhhh. Love the smell of stale coffee in the morning."

Elanor leaned against the sink and kept her eyes on Trevor as he poured the coffee. "You going to explain to me what you were talking about or am I still untrustworthy?"

He paused in his action, looking up with an irritated glower. "Don't provoke me before I had my coffee, princess." Treating the hot liquid like it was liquor he began to take large gulps of the bitter drink. He put the cup down and joined her against the sink, looking down at the graveyard of dirty dishes. "Eh, Ron was telling me about a sort of meeting I have with some potential partners. They're pretty big in the drug running world and this is just...One hell of an opportunity."

Elanor nodded slowly. "I see. Will I get to be a part of this?"

Trevor shrugged, a small smirk appearing on his lips. "We'll see" He took a look at her and enjoyed the irritation on her face, it was something he would never get tired of causing. "Calm down, sugar tits-"

" _Don't. Call me. That_." She snapped, taking a step back from him. By the way she was clenching her jaw and how her nostrils were beginning to flare out that the pet names were starting to get to her. "I hate those...Nicknames or whatever. Can't you just use my damn name?"

"Hey, don't forget who's the boss in this relationship." He threatened. "Like I said if you want any fucking respect then you earn it, _princess_."

Elanor took a slow breath in, closing her eyes trying to not go off on him. "Okay. Okay." She said, putting her hands up in defeat. "I'll put up with that but... I want in on this meeting."

Trevor raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "Oh yeah? You probably have never pointed a gun at another person in your life and you think you can handle a gang leader?" He let out a low whistle and chuckled dryly, pouring himself another cup of joe. "And I thought I had a death wish."

Elanor stood up straighter and set her jaw, she was not backing down from him after begging him for the damn job.

"Yes." She said defiantly. "I don't care if it's some creep or a fucking gang leader you're meeting, if I'm working for you I want to be where the action is. And yes," She added quickly. "I have pointed a gun at someone...He lived, sadly -but still!"

Trevor grinned at her. "You've got balls kid..."

"Thanks."

"I eat them for breakfast."

Elanor smirked back at him. "No surprise."

Trevor brushed it off, turning back to his coffee. "I'll give you a call tomorrow night and fill you in on the details, for now, I'm sick of hearing your fucking voice. Go on the side of the road and wait for some lonely trucker to pick you up."

She ignored his comment and held out her hand. Trevor peered over his dirty coffee cup with a questioning look. "What do you want?" He snapped. "Your paycheck?"

"Har-har." She said. "No, I need your phone, mine is dead."

"If that's the case," He sighed slamming the cup down with a loud clang. "I can always drive you to your shithole. Where do you live?"

"The Canals."

"Vespucci?"

"Any others you know of?"

"...Take the fucking phone."

* * *

"I told you already!" Amanda's scream echoed through the large Spanish style home. "You are not auditioning for that show! You're going to make a fucking joke out of you and the family!"

" _This is bullshit_!" Her daughter shouted back, stomping her feet like she was a child. "I'm an adult, I should be able to do whatever the hell I want!"

The two women shouted back and forth, as they normally did. In fact, it was a common activity in the De Santa home for there to be at least one shouting match per-day, if not, then the neighbors grew suspicious if one of them had finally snapped and murdered the rest of the family.

On the rather expensive white sofa sat Michael De Santa.

He had been staring blankly at the TV for a few hours, his mind focused in on the heist that would be taking place in only a few days. He had just gotten a taste not too long ago about what it felt like to be back in the game when he helped a friend basically assassinate the man who made the most addictive social media site to plague the earth. In return, said friend would help him pull off a heist to clear up some loose ends with a rather...Psychotic man.

Michael picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured himself another glass, almost enjoying being out of retirement. Then Amanda came into the room and all substance of joy died off on impact.

"Your daughter is out to drive me crazy." She hissed, snatching the bottle of whiskey from his hands.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Welcome to my world, sweetheart."

Amanda cursed under her breath and took his glass away from him as well.

"What the hell?" Michael snapped trying to take it back from her. Amanda kept it out of reach from him, dumping what was left of the liquor into a potted plant. Leaning back into the sofa Michael threw her an evil look, something that she was so used to by now he might as well have been ignoring her. "You have my attention. Now, what do you want? More money for another trainer to come and teach you a new sex position?"

"Very funny." She snarled. "I wanted to tell you we have plans for tomorrow."

"Yeah," He said. "You and who?"

"We, Michael. As in 'we' as a family, have plans."

Michael cocked an eyebrow. He had no idea where this was coming from. As far as the family was concerned they never did anything together besides fighting.

"Okay. Go on."

"We're going to dinner with a friend of mine, along with her family. They would love to meet us." Amanda explained, a hint of excitement in her voice. Michael figured she was just happy to find someone who could tolerate her long enough to become the ugly best friend that Amanda needed. "I need you to make some dinner reservations for tomorrow night, I need to go shopping with Tracy for a new dress."

"Hold it. Why do you have to drag the family into your little mess?"

"Oh, I would say the same thing to you, Michael." Her voice was laced with acid as she spoke. "You had to drag _all_ of us into your little mess and look where we are. A big happy fucking family! So now we're going to act like it and have a good time out instead of rotting away in this hell hole!"

"Sure," Michael yelled after her as she left the room. "I don't have any plans because obviously my life is just centered around you, honey."

"Go to Hell." She yelled back from the upper floor.

Michael bit back a sarcastic comment as his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw his friend, and protege, Franklin, had sent him a text message.

 _ **Yo, Mike. When is this shit goin' down?**_

 _ **On Monday. I'll keep you posted.**_

Michael threw his phone to the side and looked back at the TV to see a report of another robbery going on. He couldn't help but smile to himself thinking about how it would be him they'd be talking about soon enough.


	6. Chapter 6

"I told you we would be late." Amanda sighed.

Michael's grip tightened on the wheel for a moment. "Since when did I care about what you said?"

"Okay, can you both shut up," Tracy called from the back seat with her eyes glued to her phone. "I'm trying to focus here."

Michael glanced back at his two children in the review mirror, a pang of irritation went through him as he saw both of them mindlessly tapping away on their phones. His eyes then traveled over to his wife who was staring out the window, arms crossed over her chest.

This wasn't how he had pictured things nine years ago. He had pictured something in those old Vinewood movies, where at the end the misunderstood hero made it off with his lover and lived a life of bliss and happiness. But no. Real life just had to be a bitch. Amanda and he could barely share a bed anymore let alone have a civil conversation, and his kids were wasting their adult lives away at this point. Everything he had worked for was crumbling around him from his very eyes. It made him question if it was worth fighting for anymore.

"Dad! You're passing it!"

Coming back to his senses Michael swerved quickly around, barely missing a car as he sped to the valet.

"Smooth." Amanda sneered as they climbed out of the car.

"Oh, if I'm so bad why don't you drive next time?" He retorted, flinging the keys to the valet.

* * *

Inside the restaurant, the air was filled with the smell of overpriced food and small talk of customers too rich to give a damn if the portion sizes didn't match the price. In the large, elegant reception area sat Elanor and her parents, all three's nerves on edge as the receptionist walked over to them once more asking with a tone of annoyance if their party was ready yet.

"No." Wilson said bluntly.

"They should be here soon!" Cassandra jumped in as the man turned away from them. She seemed to deflate as she realized how late the De Santas were.

Elanor sat stiffly next to her mother on a red velvet sofa, playing with the buttons on her favorite jacket that covered up any minor cleavage her dress would show. She was trying to tune out the soft piano music floating in from the dining room and how awkward she felt being in a place like this, let alone being in a dress in the first time in years. She was pulled from her thoughts as she felt a hand on her knee. Looking up she met her mother's deep green eyes.

"I know this...Well, this isn't your thing." She said. "But I want to know that I'm glad you decided to come with us."

It took a moment for Elanor to react, attempting to give a twitch of a smile she patted her mother's hand. "No problem." She said softly, removing the hand from her.

As soon as her mother looked away, with a rather hopeful look on her face, Elanor grimaced. She hadn't wanted to come but after the other morning when she had come back from Trevor's, her mother had reacted like Elanor had returned after years of being declared dead. After fussing and interrogating her for more than an hour she had brought up the dinner with the De Santas. Of course, like normal, Elanor refused at first saying she didn't really care to meet her mother's "friends". But her mother begged and eventually began to nag her with any chance she got until Elanor broke. To top it all off she agreed to wear a dress her mother bought her years ago for graduation that she never wore before now.

Elanor began to slump back into the sofa when Wilson quick hissed over to her to close her legs.

As she snapped her legs shut and yanked the hem of her dress over her legs, her phone suddenly blared out, disrupting the calmness of the room earning some sour looks from some of the waiters passing by. Elanor sank back into the sofa as she answered the call.

"What do you want?" She growled under her breath.

"I can see that you've missed me." Trevor replied.

Elanor pressed the phone closer to her ear, in the background of Trevor's call there was loud music in the background making his voice-somehow-unhearable.

"Can you speak up?" She hissed, looking around to make sure no one was watching her. She quickly got up and went off to the side towards the restrooms.

"I might do that if you say the magic word."

"Fuck you."

"That's two words, princess."

Elanor closed her eyes and took a sharp breath in. "Please, speak up."

"See? I knew I could teach you some manners!" Trevor yelled back, this time nearly making her drop the phone. "Now listen, kid. I'm in town right now doing some...Um, business. I figured now would be a good time to swing by and get your ass up to speed with what we're dealing with tomorrow."

'Just my fucking luck.'

"Trevor, listen." She began. "Can we talk about this in an hour or two-"

"Did you forget I'm your fucking boss?" Trevor said sharply. "If I say we're going to get shit done we're going to get shit done right fucking-"

"Elanor!" The girl quickly turned and saw her mother waving her over as a group of people entered the restaurant.

"Gotta go, boss."

"Don't you dare-"

She dared.

Elanor shoved the phone into her jacket and went over to meet their guests. She watched them shake hands with her mother and Wilson; the woman seemed to be putting on a show, acting overly happy while her husband seemed tense if not irritated by her. Then there were their two others who Elanor assumed to be their kids from what her mother told her. They were around her own age, the girl was a fake blonde in a short sundress while her brother looked like an overweight, wannabe rapper.

"So glad you made it." Cassandra said to Amanda.

"Me too," The other agreed. "I've been looking for an excuse to get the family out together and this-"

She was cut off by Elanor's phone. Everyone glanced over at her as she fumbled to pull it out, quickly shutting hitting the ignore button. She looked back and tried her best to laugh it off as her mother, and Wilson gave her questioning looks.

"My boss." She explained quickly. "He doesn't really take no for an answer."

"A working girl, huh?" Micheal suddenly spoke, drawing attention away from Elanor-to her utter relief. He looked over at Jimmy and Tracy, the two still absorbed in their own little worlds. "Maybe you can teach these two how to fill out a resume."

Wilson and Cassandra looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, both silently asking the same question. 'What have we gotten ourselves into?'

"Alright!" Wilson announced slapping his hands together. "Who's ready to eat?"

* * *

"That little...Urgh!" Trevor snapped, slamming on the gas to his truck as the call was ignored. At first, this ballsy thing was cute to him. He thought it was funny for a minute and now it was just fucking annoying.

Flipping through contacts he pulled up Ron, it only took one ring before the other man was on the line.

"Wh-what do you need, boss?"

"Ron," Trevor spoke as he drove hazard through the thick traffic of the downtown area. "I need a favor. Can you trace our sweet little intern's phone down?"

There was a pause before the calculated response came. "I can try, but-but Trevor, this r-really isn't my thing. I don't really know that much about-"

"I don't fucking care!" Trevor hollered over a car screeching its horn at him for speeding through a red light. "I need to teach this princess some damn respect and I ain't waiting another damn minute! So, if you want to keep what's left of your balls I suggest you get on it."

Ron didn't argue, he knew well enough by the tone Trevor was using that this was far from negotiating. If he wanted to be safe from his boss's anger he had to figure out something quick.

"Give...Give me five minutes." Ron answered.

Trevor grunted. "That's better." As he hung up a fash of red and blue caught his eye in his review mirror. "You've got to be shitting me."

* * *

Elanor shifted around in the chair, trying her best to look interested in whatever the others were talking about. At the moment Amanda and her mother were talking about random things such as yoga to cooking to their favorite actors. Wilson and Michael were attempting to talk to each other to pass the time, mostly talking about their jobs since neither of them seemed that comfortable. As for Elanor, she had made the unfortunate decision to try to be social with Jimmy and she was paying the consequences for it...

"And this retard had the balls to sneak up on me," Jimmy went on, explaining his latest exploits in a video game he was playing. "I shot his head clean off and man, you wouldn't believe the gun I took from him!"

Elanor barely understood a word the guy was saying but for the sake of being civil, she acted impressed.

"Wow, that's sooo cool." She said, failing miserably at hiding her sarcasm. Lucky for her Jimmy didn't have that many brain cells left to comprehend it.

He had a proud smirk on his face as he accepted her "compliment". "I know. It takes a lot of skill to do something like that."

As soon as his attention was brought back to his phone, Elanor took a deep breath in and muttered how people like him are the reason she refuses to breed...

"Did you say something?" He asked.

"Did you hear about the new Assassins Creed?" She blurted out.

Tracy took a minute away from her LifeInvader's feed to comment on the topic. "God, please don't tell me you're one of those weird gamer girls."

Before Elanor could response Jimmy jumped in. This was going to be delightful.

"So what if she is?" He retorted. "At least it's a better past time then what you and your stripper friends do."

At those last few words, Michael turned his attention on his daughter. "Excuse me, what was that?"

Amanda covered her face and groaned. "God, not now."

Michael was ready to retaliate against her when their waitress swooped in and delivered their drinks.

"Thank God." Wilson muttered, taking a large gulp of his wine.

Elanor did the same with hers. She hoped the bitter liquid would be enough to cool her nerve before she lost her temper on the two brats next to her. As she was close to finishing her glass she felt her phone vibrate. She was puzzled for a moment as she pulled it out to see a text message from Trevor.

 **You're in deep shit.**

That's all it said and it was enough to make her stomach drop. Elanor knew blowing off Trevor would have its consequences, it'd be stupid of her if she didn't, but she was worried about what he was planning.

Michael was drinking his whiskey when he happened to glance over at Elanor. The kid's face seemed paler than he remembered it to be. She must be a light drinker, he thought.

"Hey kid," He said making her look at him. "You okay? You look like you're gonna be sick."

"I'm...I'm fine." Elanor muttered, waving a hand as she put the phone back. "Thanks."

Michael didn't say anything. He didn't fully believe her but it wasn't his place to parent someone else's kids when he could barely deal with his. He got up and patted Amanda's shoulder.

"I'm gonna have a smoke."

Amanda wrinkled her nose and shrugged his hand off like he was a bug. "Whatever."

"I think I'll come with you." Wilson said suddenly.

"But you don't smoke." Cassandra objected quickly, not ready to be alone with Amanda and the kids.

Wilson leaned over to her and smiled. "There are somethings you don't know about me, darling." Leaving her speechless he kissed her cheek and the two men made their escape to the smoking lounge.

Once they left, things were quiet for the most part. Elanor was idly playing with her hair band between her fingers when Amanda said; "Tell me about your family therapist. Michael has one of his own but he's God awful and cost's a fortune, hell, I'm not even sure if he does family meetings or any of that crap."

Cassandra shrugged. "I can give you the number. He's been pretty helpful for El and me."

Amanda quirked up an eyebrow, she sensed there was a juicy story behind this and she would be damned if she didn't hear it. "Oh really?" She said, acting surprised. "You guys don't seem like you have any problems."

Cassandra hesitated. She glanced over at her daughter and knew this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have, especially in front of others. "It's nothing. Really. Just some issues revolving around her father-"

She was cut off when Elanor abruptly got up. "I need the bathroom." She said quickly, walking away before her mother could say anything.

Amanda watched the girl storm pass a waiter, almost making him drop his tray. She chuckled dryly. "She and Tracy might get along."

It took every ounce of willpower for Cassandra to hold back a couple unpleasant phrases she had for Amanda.

* * *

The smoking lounge was located on the far back of the restaurant. It was a decent sized room for the location with leather furniture and a soft light to it, along with a bar that would serve hard liquor.

When Michael and Wilson walked in they went straight to the bar. Michael glanced over to the other man to see if he wanted something but he turned him down.

"Suit yourself," He sighed turning to the bartender. "Vodka on the rocks." While they were waiting Michael handed Wilson a cigarette, putting one in his own mouth as well. "So...Is your wife as much of a bitch as mine?"

Wilson was taken back by the bluntness of the comment, his mouth was gapped open slightly as he searched for a response. "N-no. I mean...We're fine." He stammered as Michael lit his cigarette for him.

The other man nodded. "Okay, don't get it twisted. I just didn't think Amanda would be friends with someone who had a stable marriage. She lives for drama." Michael laughed bitterly as his drink was served to him. "Hell, our lives could be one twisted soap opera."

Wilson didn't comment on that, he already had the feeling things weren't well in the De Santa household just by seeing how the couple interacted with each other. "Well, nobody really has an easy life," Wilson commented. "Everyone has at least one demon in their closet."

'You have no idea, pal.' The other thought as he puffed on his smoke.

"I mean, Elanor isn't easy." Wilson went on, not really noticing Michael didn't give a damn. " She and her mother have...Serious issues and they are trying to work on it but El...She's just very guarded."

Michael laughed at this. "I know. I have two spoil shits of my own to deal with."

Wilson shook his head and walked off to another corner of the room, leaving Michael alone at the bar to his own thoughts. It wasn't a moment later when a voice rang out towards the front of the restaurant making Michael think he had just entered a nightmare.

"What the fuck do you mean you won't let me in?!"

* * *

In the bathroom Elanor was standing by the mirror, leaning up against the sink. She had probably been staring at her own reflection for a solid five minutes trying to calm herself down. She couldn't believe her mother had the nerve to bring up their personal lives in front of these strangers, especially bringing up her father. If there was one thing that really got to her it was always to the topic of that man.

During those last few moments of self-pity Elanor could hear some commotion going on in the reception area, at first she thought it was some dissatisfied customers who were fighting for a refund. But that theory was soon blown out of the water.

"What the fuck do you mean you won't let me in?!"

Her eyes widen, her heart was about to book it as she recognized that annoying voice. She ran out of the bathroom, shoving past some stunned bystanders to see Trevor nose to nose with the receptionist from earlier.

Trevor loomed over the man by a few inches but that was enough to make him look like a beast in comparison as the receptionist began to tremble in fear.

"You...You need a reservation." The man stammered. It was clear that any facade of bravery he was trying hold on to was about to crumble away as Trevor bared his teeth.

"Listen here, Richard." He sneered. "I have a friend I need to talk to and if you don't let me in I'm going to-"

"Trevor!" Elanor snapped.

The man slowly turned around, eyeing her from across the room with a predatory look. "You." He said slowly as he stalked over to her. Common sense told her to run, but her pride made her stand her ground as her boss reached her. Trevor glared down at her, a vein ready to burst out of his neck. "You know how rude it is to ignore someone's calls. Especially mine."

Elanor placed her hands on her hips, her own temper beginning to flare up. "You could have waited a fucking hour."

"You could have answered your fucking phone!"

"I was busy pretending to be a normal, okay asshole!"

"Don't you dare talk dirty to me, woman. Not now."

As she was about to smack Trevor into the next week another problem walked in. Her mother.

"Elanor!" Cassandra cried, rushing to the scene. Elanor was ready to rip her hair out at that moment, Trevor on the other hand flipped his switch real quick when he saw her.

"Well _, helloooo."_ He whistled looking up and down the older woman's "full" figure.

Cassandra gaped at him in disgust. "El...Who is this?"

Trevor turned on Elanor, giving her a look of hurt. "You didn't tell her about us, princess? Are you ashamed of me?"

"Don't you dare." She growled, her hands beginning to twitch. Before she knew it though, Trevor had wrapped an arm around her waist and slammed her into his chest. She ended up getting a good whiff of his disgusting body order mixed with cheap perfume.

"Ma'am," He went on dramatically. "Me and your daughter have known each other for a short time-but _Goddammit!_ She drives me absolutely fucking crazy and I love every second of it."

Elanor's mother didn't have a clue what was going on, like everyone else in the room they just looked at Trevor like he was an alien who knew how to speak Russian.

"I promise you, I'll take good care of-"

"Shove it!" Elanor snapped, pushing him off of her. She walked over to her mother and gripped her by the shoulders. "Mom, this is my boss."

"B-boss?" She repeated, still looking at Trevor who waved cheekily at her.

"Yeah...From the bar." Her daughter lied. "Look I need to go-"

Just like that Cassandra had snapped out of her daze and grabbed hold of Elanor's arm. "No! God no! You are not working for a man like...That!"

Trevor raised his eyebrows, looking Cassandra up and down. "Well you ain't that good looking yourself, porky."

Elanor couldn't take it. She tore her mother's hand off and turned her back on her, ready to drag Trevor out the door with her when Cassandra tried reaching for her again.

"I'm you're mother and you'll listen to me-"

 _"Mother?!_ " The young woman barked back with bitterness. "You call yourself a mother? Then where were you for twelve years of my life? Huh?"

Cassandra didn't respond, her face flooded with remorse. "Elanor, please-"

Elanor didn't listen. She spun around and grabbed Trevor by the forearm. "Come on."

As they went for the door Trevor suddenly stopped as a waitress passed by with a tray of bread. "I'll be taking this." He said, grabbing the tray from the bewildered woman and shoving a roll into his mouth before following Elanor out the door.

Cassandra was frozen in place, to her it seemed like the world had stopped once the words her daughter had so brutally spat at her sunk in. Moments later Wilson had come running into the room, embracing her.

"Thank God, you're okay." He said. Taking a minute to look around he then asked her where Elanor was?

Cassandra felt tears prick her eyes as she answered: "She's gone."

Back at the table, Amanda had told Tracy and Jimmy to stay where they were, they didn't argue. She ran off to the smoking lounge to find Michael sitting at the bar like a statue.

"Michael!" Her voice was shaking as she ran to him. She gripped his shoulder tightly and began to shake it. "Michael, it was him. I know it was. He's finally found us-"

"It wasn't him." He said. His voice was flat, almost like he was lost in a dream.

Amanda would let up. She kept insisting it was him and that their family was in danger. "He's crazy! We're not safe anymore, we need to leave!"

"It's not him!" Michael shouted, startling everyone in the room. He got up and shoved Amanda to the side, leaving her by the bar in a panic state.

"Where are you going?!" She yelled after him.

"Home!" He responded without looking at her. "If you don't want to take the bus, I suggest you hurry up!"


	7. Chapter 7

Trevor was laying in his bed. His bloodshot eyes traced over the cracks and peels of the ceiling as his mind ran wild with thought. He didn't sleep last night, mostly because he took some cocktail of drugs that made him feel like the fucking Hulk. It wasn't that unusual for him to do that. Once, he had run solely on speed and coffee for three days before crashing-quite literally- into a tree. At the moment he was reliving the events of last night in his head, laughing to himself every now and then.

Last night had been an interesting one, that was for sure. After leaving the restaurant he had a good laugh about what had happened, taunting Elanor about the look on everyone's faces-especially her mother's- when he came in. It was apparent though, that the princess didn't find any humor in it.

That was something he didn't like about her-how much of a killjoy she could be. It was like she had a whole tree stuck up her ass. He made a mental note to figure out how to dislodge that tree.

The two had done their usual snarky and crude comment war for a bit when Elanor changed the subject, demanding him to tell her what was the plan for the meeting.

Trevor had tried to make it as simple as possible. Because A) simplicity meant elegancy-or some shit like that. He didn't know, he caught it over the radio once and it kind of stuck to him. And B) because he didn't want her to fuck anything up.

 _"All you have to do is stand there and look pretty," He had told her. "Let me do the talking and if anything goes downhill I can handle it."_

 _Elanor clearly didn't like the plan. "So I'm just there to be a piece of meat?"_

 _"Not necessarily." He lied. "You're just going to be distracting the guy, make him drop his guard a bit. I dunno, the guy has a thing for white trash."_

 _"If that's his taste then maybe you should be the one seducing him."_

 _"I've thought about that," Trevor said, catching Elanor off guard. "But for some weird reason, every time I get in a dress everyone flips the fuck out about it! I mean, for Christ's sake! There are cross-dressers on TV and they can't handle that shit in real life?!"_

 _"...I don't want to know about your private life."_

Trevor's lips twitched slightly as he remembered the look on her face when he had said that. It was a look of pure confusion and a bit of horror. He had to admit, he loved the reactions he got out of her. Whether it was anger or confusion-they were priceless.

Eventually, he turned his head over to check his alarm clock.

1:17

No surprise, he thought.

His body protested as he climbed out of bed, making him curse as he walked out to the kitchen to see if the coffee from yesterday was worth heating up. Walking in he saw Elanor curled up on the couch with her back to him and her face covered with her jacket. By the snoring though, he figured she was dead asleep.

Trevor went over to her and took the jacket off her face, making her groan in protest.

Elanor rolled over with her eyes still shut and asked: "What now?"

"Quit snoring." He ordered, tossing her jacket off to the side. "You sound like a hog fucking a motor."

Elanor muttered something under her breath but Trevor ignored it and went to pour a cup of stale, cold coffee. "Get your ass up, I want you to try this."

Forcing one eye open Elanor glared at the coffee cup and then to Trevor. "You didn't piss in it did you?"

"No, but thanks for the idea." Before she could fully sit up Trevor had shoved the cup into her hands and watched her take a hesitant sip. As expected she spat it out over the floor. "Huh, that bad?"

Elanor didn't grace him with a response. She shoved the cup into his hands and went to work on prepping the coffee. Trevor leaned against the counter and watched her, scratching at his arm. Elanor ignored him. She sure as hell wasn't a morning person and being around Trevor didn't make things any better. She had turned to grab the half-empty can of coffee grinds when her eyes locked on a tattoo that Trevor had on the bicep he was scratching.

The tattoo was a detailed cross with two banners wrapping around it, that read 'Michael Townley'.

The question then flowed from her mouth without a second thought. "Who's Michael Townley?"

Trevor's hand froze in mid-scratch. Absently his eyes wandered down to the image and then to the floor. "No one...Just a friend." He answered in an unusual dreamlike tone.

This only fed into the young woman's curiosity. "What happened to him?"

Trevor shrugged. "Died."

Taking the hint, Elanor stopped asking questions and turned the machine on. She didn't know why she had asked him about it. Perhaps it was because she was with a Michael the night before, maybe that's why the name caught her attention.

The two of them stood there in a static silence, neither moving or looking at each other. Elanor didn't know if she should say something or maybe-God forbid- apologize. The idea was wiped from her mind when a beeping sound came from Trevor's phone.

He looked at it. It was text from Ashely asking if he wanted to do a hookup. What the hell, he thought and replied back telling her to get her ass over there. When he looked back up Elanor was watching his every move.

"Your parents didn't teach you about respecting privacy, huh?" He then went over to the fridge and began to rummage around. "I'm going to need you to fuck off for a bit, princess. I have someone coming over."

Elanor leaned back on the counter, more interested in a piece of hair then what Trevor was saying. "Mhhh."

"And while you're out," He went on. "Go buy some shit, will ya'? I think that hamburger just winked at me-wait. No...False alarm." Trevor yelled back, slamming the fridge as he did. "It was just a half-dead rat."

Elanor glanced back at him. "Okay, master. Is there anything else you want from me?"

Trevor thought for a second. "Hmmm...Yes-"

"Not happening."

"You didn't let me finish the fucking sentence."

"Did it involve something perverted?"

"...Maybe..."

"My point stands."

* * *

Elanor reluctantly walked out of the slightly cooler gas station into the mid-day sun. She almost thought about going back inside when she heard the cashier screaming at someone and then some loud thuds, and crashes followed. With that question answered she made her way back towards Trevor's trailer. It was only a two-mile walk but the sun made it very unpleasant, to say the least.

During the walk back she thought about what had happened last night and the consequences she now had to face. First off, she had a close call with Trevor. She didn't know how the hell he found her and she counted her blessings that he didn't blow a gasket when he showed up. She made a note to herself to choose her battles wisely with him from now on.

Second, after what had happened between her and her mother Elanor had the faintest feeling that she didn't have a place to stay anymore. Well, unless she wanted to put another dent in her pride and go begging on her knees to her mother. She didn't give that a second thought, she would rather have sex with Trevor before she did that...And that possibly said something.

"I wish I never left Wisconson." She grumbled to herself and the packet of jerky she picked up from the gas station. She had also gotten some beer, figuring that she would need it after today.

By the time she made it back Elanor had finished the bag of jerky and was ready to chug down a bottle of beer. She started to make her way up the steps to the trailer when she noticed a few grunts and muddled curses coming from inside. Having heard similar things from the neighbor's apartment in the old complex she had lived in previously Elanor chose to get comfortable on the steps.

Tuning out the sound of two mutts rutting Elanor popped open a beer, sipping on it as she enjoyed the scenery of rural America in all of its low economic glory.

* * *

Changing the scenery from the trash heap called Sandy Shores we go back to the pristine, over the top mansions of Rockford Hills.

Amanda had finished her lunch, part of the latest diet fade she found to get rid of stubborn fat, when Michael strode into the house. From the looks of him, he had a raging aura of confidence radiating off of him. Something she hadn't seen from him in years.

"Hey," She said, quirking an eyebrow at him. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"Nothing really." He lied. "Just a good day, that's all. Oh, hey, do you want to go out for dinner tonight? Just the two of us."

Amanda frowned a bit. "Michael, are you getting Alzheimer's early or are you choosing to be in denial still?"

She was talking about the night before. They had argued about it for almost the whole night whether or not the voice remained to Trevor. Even though Amanda was convinced it was him Michael chose to act like it wasn't him. It couldn't be. Trevor had to be dead. It was probably just some drugged out hobo who wandered in there and happened to have the same voice as his dead best friend.

Yeah. We'll go with that.

"Come on," He insisted. "Let's not worry about it."

Amanda shook her head. "Maybe another time. I mean, yoga waits for no one."

Her husband rolled his eyes. Of course. Yoga was more important than him. Or perhaps it was the instructor?

Before he had the chance to make up his mind Amanda had walked out the door and Franklin entered.

"Whoa, sorry girl." The young black man said as he passed her.

Amanda barely gave him a glance. It was obvious Amanda didn't like Franklin and Michael, as usual, could give less of a fuck about what Amanda thought.

Franklin closed the large wooden door behind him, making a loud echo erupt through the nearly empty house. The young man grinned widely and smacked his hands together.

"We did it, man!" He cried.

Michael returned this with a laugh. "I take it that means we're all good."

"Fuck yeah, man." Franklin went on as they entered the living room. "You know what, man, I think this calls for a celebration."

"You said it." Michael then poured them each a shot from the liquor he kept in handy on the nights when he couldn't stand his life anymore. He then went on to tell Franklin that their friend Lester had managed to find a guy who would give them a decent payout on the score they made on the jewelry store. "...Fifty-cents on the dollar." Michael concluded.

Franklin nearly choked on his liquor at the statement-making Michael laugh. "Hell," He went on as they sat down on his overpriced sofa. "We might have some spending money after we pay off that psychotic Mexican motherfucker. Cheers." He added.

"So that's it. End of story?" Franklin asked.

"Hope so." Michael said, taking a swig of his shot. At that moment both men were riding on a high from what they had just gotten away with. But that was short lived when reality came storming in, in the form of a man named Dave Norton.

The FIB agent came storming into the room from the kitchen, looking more tired and frustrated than normal."The whole job.

Everything about it-anyone who knows your file...What is wrong with you?!"

"Davey!" Michael said with open arms. "Long time no see!"

Dave frowned. He didn't want to be here dealing with Michael's shit. He had slightly higher hopes for Michael than this...But what do you expect from a middle-aged narcissist?

"And what about Trevor?" Davey went on. "If that fruitcake realizes-no, no. Finds out your alive you are D-O-N-E fucked!"

Michael didn't respond at first. Why was he so concerned about Trevor finding him?

"Trevor's dead...Right." It was more of a demand than a question.

Davey groaned, rubbing his temples. "We've been over this. We've never found him dead or alive. So if I were you I wouldn't be going around turning things into a fucking circus."

Michael shrugged and looked over to Franklin, giving him a knowing smirk. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've been here being a good little boy."

Dave didn't buy it for one second. He snatched the remote up and turned the TV on to the news to show them the evidence. What they had done earned them instant headlines. The media was all over it not even a few hours after the heist had been done. And on the screen was the pansy of a security guard who Michael had threatened when he got in their way.

"...So yeah, I was doing my job when I said to this guy 'Hey you need to move these bikes'."

The screen suddenly went black. Dave turned to look at Michael who had the remote in his hand.

"I don't know what that's all about."

* * *

Sitting on the steps in the desert heat Elanor was beginning to doze off. She had to be there for a good ten minutes and the only entertainment she had was the occasional tumbleweed going over the road. Her eyes were halfway shut when some voices drifted in from down the road.

Standing up Elanor squinted to see a trio walking-well, more like charging- towards the trailer. She recognized two of the figures, Wade and Ron, who were pleading after a murderous-looking biker.

She was preparing herself for the chaos that would probably ensue from this as the three men closed in when Trevor came out of the trailer.

"Got trouble." She said to him. Trevor didn't respond, in a way it looked like he didn't hear her. "Trevor?"

"Don't do it Johnny!" Elanor looked over to see the group had already arrived. Ron still begging the biker, Johnny, not to try anything. From the looks of the guy, he didn't give a damn at the moment.

"Trevor!" He growled, shoving his way through the steps. "Have you been with my girl again?"

Elanor waited with baited breath to see Trevor react- to cuss, to threaten, to punch the guy, anything! But he didn't do anything. Just walked past him like the guy wasn't even there.

Johnny didn't give up, he was screaming after Trevor while Ron held him back. Eventually, the girl from inside came out telling him to leave it. Elanor couldn't help but look her up and down. Yep. She was Trevor's type.

But she had to admit. She did like her cowboy boots...

"It doesn't make it right!" Johnny went on like a broken record. "We all get high, but it doesn't make it right what you've done to me." He then went after the zombified version of Trevor who was walking down the road to nowhere in particular.

Johnny was followed by everyone but Elanor, who had the common sense not to get involved with this. Besides, cornering Trevor is like cornering a rabid possum. No good can come from it.

From a safe distance, Elanor watched the scene unfold. At first, nothing happened. An exchange of words, Trevor telling Johnny to drop his pants and then one of the rarest sights on earth happened. Trevor hugged Johnny. Since she wasn't close up Elanor didn't fully understand the contexts of all this but she did understand what happened next.

Trevor had taken Johnny by surprise, gripping his throat and shoving him to the side of the dirt road. No one dared to interfere as Trevor threw his bottle at the biker's head and proceeded to smash his face in with his foot.

"Cunt!Cunt!Cunt!Cunt!" Trevor screamed over and over until he finally got bored. "Who do you think you're talking to?" He shouted at the dead body. "Who? WHO?! Next time don't get in my fucking face! I just saw a fucking ghost and now I've got to hear your crap?! Get up! Get up! Fuck you, then!" With no response from the corpse, Trevor stalked off.

His mind was already swimming from what he had just seen on the news and now he had to deal with this bullshit.

Ron and Wade were at Trevor's heels as he went for his truck. "That dopey cowboy's forced our hand." He said as he jumped in. "We gotta find the rest of the Lost." Trevor was about to take off with the two men when he saw Elanor's reflection in the side mirror. She was about to jump in the back with wade when he hollered:"Hold it, princess!"

She froze and glared at him. "What?!"

"You're on trash duty. Get rid of them." He ordered, pointing over to Johnny's dead body and Ashely who was sobbing over him.

Elanor opened her mouth to protest but Trevor didn't care enough to listen. "Meet me at the Yellow Jack Inn." He said before he stepped on the gas and drove off, dust and dirt swirling behind them.

Elanor ground her teeth together as the junker of a truck disappeared. She should have known he would leave her with the dirty work. Her attention was then drawn to the hysterical sobbing coming from Ashely, who was still clinging to Johnny's body. Elanor couldn't help but feel a small bit of sympathy for her, still, that didn't change the fact that if she didn't get rid of the two then Trevor would add her body to pile.

Turning around Elanor saw a metal pipe lying under a pile of scrap.

'Good enough for me.' She thought. Picking it up Elanor shifted it between her palms before starting to walk over to the redhead.

"Pretend she's a dog." She told herself as she got closer. "A very, very sick dog."

* * *

It wasn't even a full hour later when Trevor had finished his rampage across the town. He had taken out a good portion of the motorcycle gang and he had killed the Aztec's leader, which would have its consequences. Nonetheless, Trevor didn't give a damn. None of that really matter at the moment, what mattered was that a pussy with a shitty pencil mustache on the news had just said that one of the robbers from the jewelry store heist had said; "You forget a thousand things every day, make sure this is one of them."

Now, Trevor may be a drug addict with tendencies for violent outbursts but that didn't make him an idiot. There were two options to this: A) someone else out there liked the same shitty quotes that his dead best friend did. Or B) His dead best friend was dead.

At the moment, Trevor didn't know what to think. He saw Michael Townley get shot down that day in North Yankton. He saw his cold dead body get put in the ground. How did he survive? Why did he never contact him?

He could smell a rat and it wasn't the one in the fridge.

After dropping Ron and Wade off, giving Wade the special task of tracking down the "ghost" of Michael Townley, he headed off to the Yellow Jack Inn. The meeting with the leader of the Triads was today, and of course of all fucking days, it had to be this one.

Pulling up to the bar Trevor saw Elanor waiting for him in the parking lot. She was pacing around with her normal scowl and had a few noticeable dark stains on the skirt of her dress, which she tried desperately to hide with her jacket tied around her waist.

"You should try smiling once a while," Trevor said as he got out of the truck. "Who knows it might make you look attractive for once."

Elanor brushed the comment off and asked what the hell he was up to? Trevor didn't answer it right away, instead, he turned his attention to her new boots.

"I may have been in the middle of an internal crisis but weren't you wearing sandals earlier?"

Elanor looked down at her newly acquired cowboy boots and then back at Trevor. "What? It wasn't like she was going to need them."

"And people say I'm twisted."


End file.
